From the Garden of Gods
by Sythe
Summary: In a barren land incapable of sustaining life, a Miko, whose most basic and most principal of powers is to give and nurture life, must seem divine in nature. It's not simple Mokuton, said Sunagakure village elders, Mokuton only affects wood and cannot give life to dead crops. It definitely does not resurrect a village on the brink of historic financial depression either.
1. Chapter 1: Seeds and Desert

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Inuyasha or Naruto related. The only thing I own is the plot.

**Chapter 1:**** Seed and Desert **

'_A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured them. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and immediately they sprang up, since they had no depth of soil. Others fell among the thorns, and the thorns came up and choked them out. And others fell on the good soil and yielded a crop, some a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty.'_

\- Matthew -

* * *

The first time Kagome Higurashi awoke in the new world, her throat was parched dry, her nose burned, and her skin came to the point where they almost crackled under the full weight of the desert sun. From her eyes, still dazed, she saw nothing but endless sand dunes and the white glare of incoming heat mirage. From her ears, she heard nothing but the howling wind playing without pause on the backdrop of an infinite silence, the likes of which she was sure could only be found in the depths of the earth and far into the deep wilderness where no man dared tread.

In the first five seconds of their meeting, face to face, this new nameless world had already shown her how harsh it could be, and how tough it would be, and Kagome—for she was never one to complain nor lament about her usually less than stellar state of affairs—in reply simply got up… no… struggled and crawled because at that point her body was already too dehydrated and she herself had grown too weak to actually sit up, stand, and walk away and out of the desert.

The sand was under her, in the space between her fingers, sprinkled on her browning skin and falling in the folds of her clothes and shoes, hot from the sun and uncomfortable in their countless grains. Eventually, after some fumbling and an infinite amount of struggling, she managed to reach her backpack. Her water bottle was in the side mesh pocket and from it, her strength came back in cool rivulets of water down her throat, inside and out, into her shirt, dampening her skin.

She saw droplets of water on the sand, being sucked into the bottomless desert sea, and with the first of her returning courage, yanked her mouth away from the bottle and stoppered it tight. Her throat burned and cried out for more—water, life, sustenance, relief and escape from this burning hell on earth—but she put her foot down.

She would need to save up the little that remained, sloshing wonderfully inside the clear plastic Camelbak bottle, for the trek ahead. Licking her dry and gradually chapping lips, she fumbled some more with the zippers on the backpack and from them withdrew a jacket, her school baseball cap, and a spare of Sango's facemask. She wet the facemask with a cupped handful of water, then she put them on, shouldered her backpack, and, with great difficulty, crawled slowly away from the clear open space of blasting sun and towards a rock jutting in the distance. In its shade, she found temporary relief from the heat, and there she slept fitfully until the sun set; the heat bleeding out from the sandy ground and the cold of desert night starting to creep along her skin. Then and only then did she fully wake up, eat her first bite of tasteless granola bar in this world, and start to find her way out of the desert.

It was never going to be easy, this she knew. And while she had some preparation from the countless wilderness survival books she had gobbled up for her trek across Feudal Japan, surviving and escaping a desert terrain—whether she had knowledge of it or not—was never a hundred percent guaranteed with success.

She walked during the night and rested in the shade during the day. She forced herself to walk slowly, conserving her strength and her will for the long days ahead. She ate slowly and in little bites, never allowing herself to progress to complete fullness. It took water, a lot of water, for the body to process food. A full stomach meant that her limited water supply would last her nowhere near as long they would if she forced herself to go regularly hungry.

So she ate, but just enough to fuel the body, never enough so that the gnawing of her stomach completely disappeared and took with it precious water that could be used to sustain her for longer. A fine balance game.

Her water bottle lasted for a full two days, after which she started digging solar stills around her shade in the day to harvest the moisture from the earth and from her own piss.

Gross, and not something the old Kagome would do without giving up some grouses and stressing out over hours better spent on surviving, but she wanted to live, and the business of living in a world where creature comforts of modernity could never reach was usually an unsavory business.

In the day, when the sun wasn't frying anything outside of shade or not made of stone, dirt, and sand, she foraged along the path of dried up riverbeds, adding moss and weeds and small burnt leaves to her stock of dried jerkies, cup ramen (which came near the point of being useless here because while she could eat them raw, their high sodium content was a huge waste of water from her body), and granola bars.

She walked North, leaving little stone cairns behind in the dirt and the sand to mark where she had been, because North was where the wind came from and where the streaks left behind by dried up waterbeds pointed to. North, where there probably was still water, somewhere in the height, high in the stone plateaus where the earth hadn't been rendered infertile.

The days were long and the nights longer, and in between surviving, she found her thoughts wandering back to her friends, to the world and family she left behind. There were no tears to shed. She was long past what happened and even in the case that the pain proved too much, tears were a terrible waste of the increasingly shrinking amount of water inside of her and her water bottle. So she trudged on, days, nights.

Her light schoolgirl uniform and added track pants were a terrible match for the terrain and the weather but it was at least durable. She tried to preserve the shoes as best she could, not wanting to have to trek through the scotching by day and freezing by night vast expanse of lifeless sand, dirt and rock on nothing but bare feet, but they probably wouldn't last forever.

She stopped counting the days. The heat was giving her intense headaches and her lips dried to the point of bleeding at times. One day a sandstorm came without warning, or maybe it did come with warning but she was too blind, deaf, and ignorant to see it coming. She managed to survive, just barely, swimming in the waves of sand with only gulps of air in her lungs, abandoning her heavy backpack to fall into the fathomless depth of the desert. There went the stuffs she so painstakingly took with her but she had made do on less.

She cut her hair till they were up to her ears and just about covered her neck from daylight. They were getting in the way and she was starting to think about the nutritions that went to nurturing them instead of keeping her alive and moving. Maybe that was grasping for straws, but who knew? She was getting to the point where sand bugs made for a scrumptious meal.

Then the demons of the past started haunting the nights. The unbearable loneliness and infinite silence was getting to her she knew. The old Kagome would have withered. The old Kagome would rather go back to her friends even if she had to die to do so. This Kagome wanted to live… not for herself, no, even now she wasn't someone who could truly and fully live just for herself, but simply because she still had something to do. Something that could never be left unfinished.

A promise to keep. She had to live. Live and keep her words.

Then one morning they appeared on the horizon of her increasingly blurring vision, the unclear but definite shapes of man made constructs in the distance.

Crouching there, because she no longer had the strength to stand upright, on the stone ledge and looking at the vague shapes in the distance, that was her first time seeing the Village Hidden by Sand. She cried. Soaring joy and a bone deep sadness welling in her chest. It could have ended there in the heart of this yet nameless desert, but in the end Kagome Higurashi yet lived. The story that started when she was a fifteen years old teen girl at the mouth of a long abandoned well was not yet over. No. Not by a long shot.

In hindsight, it was stepping from one life-threatening desert into another, only they were life threatening in different ways, but then again, what difference did it make?

* * *

They threw her out once they were done.

In the story and on TVs, the lost protagonists were always taken in, clothed, fed, and cared for by the good village folks. How many books and Video Games had she played in which her character started out as the wandering bum in some scenic small name villages with people way too charitable to be real? Whoever heard of games or books or movies where it ended right in the first act/episode/tutorial level because the hero starved to death with zero penny in her torn and patched pockets… or thrown into the brigs and left to rot?

Apparently it was so in real life. Apparently it was so if the village in question was by all means a military outpost whose access was limited to only those with the proper papers and passes and its denizens traversed in a world where farfetched espionage schemes were an everyday affair. Apparently it was so if the heroine—in this case—wandered in through the gate looking like a lunatic with zero documentations on her body and did not even speak the local language.

Of course they took her in at first, at the gate where she pathetically crawled to them on all four. Deep in the desert as they were, they had had enough of their own people—children who didn't know better, the elderlies with diminishing senses, or the mentally deficient—getting lost out in the sands only to come wandering back months later to know gentleness and leniency was called for when a little no-name waif wrapped in week-old dirt and grime layers came crawling.

They put her in a closed-off ward in the hospital, cleaned her up and nursed her until she could talk… really talk and not just make unintelligible noises with the back of her tattered throat (the heat destroyed them on the second week, and afterwards, Kagome sometimes screamed to ward off the night demons). They checked her face and her fingerprints, took her blood and hair for testing. Once they were sure she wasn't any of their lost denizens that had gotten back home by sheer feats of tenacity and luck, they threw her into the interrogation chamber where their soldiers strapped her to an iron chair and their interrogators spent countless hours growling foreign threats to her face. And when even that couldn't yield anything new out of this obviously foreign crazy girl...

… they threw her out.

On the streets, in the night. They unlocked her shackles and escorted her through several stairs and way too many gates for her frazzled mind to remember until she was standing on this side of the door leading out to the village street. They gave her a bag, cast pitying looks—usually reserved for the suicidal or the mentally retarded—at her, pushed her out the door, and closed it.

She stood there in the streets, in nothing but her offwhite makeshift detention center garb, freezing in the cold desert night, for maybe a full minute as her mind came to terms.

She was lost, again, not even in time as she had done so years ago but in a completely different world. Lost and alone and tethered to this strange world with nothing but the strength of a promise. She may not be able to understand the language nor the people, but she had seen how different their world was—how different the people. She felt a quiver starting from her heart, spreading out to her limbs, to her throat, to her eyes, threatening to spill and break her already in tatters mind.

It would be very easy to end it all. She reminded herself. But suicide was, beyond anything else, an act of selfishness and barred from her by the strength of a promise. So she heaved the bag to her shoulder and started walking aimlessly into the night.

* * *

The next several weeks were… difficult to remember. A blur in her mind. A trance during which she could hardly recalled the details of.

Blue skies. Sand the color of burnt yellow. The wind, the moaning, howling, sometimes growling wind. Wind that filled in every second of maddening silence inside her head. Hours spent wandering aimlessly along the village labyrinthine paths. The scent of human sweat, sun and dirt, fetid and heady in the ever present heat. The sounds, the sighs, the chirrups of a hundred words in foreign tongue. The cool breath of the night within well-insulated stucco constructs.

On the first morning after being thrown out of the detention center, she stumbled (Was shown? Led to? Did it matter?) the local equivalent of Tokyo Center for the Homeless. The building, sandy in color and sanded by desert wind, stood at the back end of the village, with its back against the mountainside. Somber and burdened by the invisible weight of the combined destitution of all its denizens. Amidst the undulating crowd of unwashed and hungry strangers, she found her first home in this world.

Like its counterparts back in her hometown of Tokyo, this one also took in the lost, the lonely, and the destitute, all of which she fit to a tee. They took her to the back where a thickset madame sat filing enormous piles of documents, took the papers the detention center issued to her and proceeded to - she guessed - legalized her status as a village vagabond.

In the tail end of the building, behind a set of reinforced steel grates, they distributed food once per day to the clawing mass on the other side. No greens and nothing fresh either. Not in this place. Not this deep in the desert. The homeless all feasted upon shapeless morsels of dried … _something_…

In return for the food and the occasional spare patch of clean floor inside the center's cool confines to sleep upon, they each contributed a little something, whether it be small labors here and there, a helping hand presented to faces new and old, or the odds and ends collected from trash heaps and from the desert plains.

Her scars from weeks spent in the pits of the desert still fresh, Kagome stayed inside the walls of the village. While it had no doubt saved her life, the couple days in the hospital hadn't done a lot of good for her scalded feet and emaciated physics. She was too weak for any heavy labour and too lacking in the know-how to be trusted with any complicated works.

Still, there were things even a frail, foreign girl who spoke not a word of the local language could handle. They put her to the serving station, in the safe side of the grates that stood between the center handlers and the starving mass, in the afternoon, once every day, and when the trails of hungries trickled to an end, it was to the landfill she went.

Wastelands for those who lived in the desert did not strictly follow along the same definition as wastelands elsewhere. Here, where nature was harsh and its bounties in scarce supplies, the mantra to living a good life is waste not want not. It was upon this same principle that the villagers of Sunagakure (she only got to know this name on the third week of her residency in the Center for the Homeless) founded and operated the single landfill of the entire village.

Rather than a place in which people dumped things they no longer wanted nor needed, Suna Central Landfill was more of a… through station. Early in the morning, shipments of trashes, usually from houses of nobility or from nearby well-to-do civilian outposts, would come through the gate in tsunamic waves. They gave it an hour to sit and set and then the trash diggers came through in trickles. She was one of them, working her shift from late afternoon to early evening.

There were a lot of things to be found and used. Broken furnitures. Torn, and in some cases blood stained, garments. Old and rusty weapons, to be boiled down and remade into work tools. Spoiled food. Not safe enough for human consumption but great for other uses. Though food in general was rare, especially so in this land where hardship and the lack of everything, human sustenance included, was so easily found. It didn't take complete understanding of the language for her to see the village had fallen on hard times a long time ago, and there it had stayed, probably for longer than it should have.

The work was tedious in its simplicity. Single-minded repetitions in the thousands, in the hundred thousands. But as she was, Kagome welcomed its tediousness with open arms. It gave her purpose, filled in the empty space in her chest.

She couldn't quite remember how long she spent foraging the ebbs and flows of the trash mountain, but one day a little something changed.

In the cracks between cliffs of trash, she found a seed.

A single, shrivelled, dried up and quite obviously dead germ of lemon verbena.

Lemon Verbena, or lemon beebrush. Versatile plant. It had pretty flowers, can be eaten and its leaves and tops had medicinal uses. Its oil was also cultivated for various purposes. But…

…. what was the seed of a moderate climate shrub tree doing here? In a desert of all places? Not even taking into account the dreadful soil condition of this land, as sensitive to extreme weather conditions as it was, this would be the last place she expected to find a seed of its kind.

Sunagakure was infamous as a land mostly incapable of carrying any life forms, except for humans and their assorted pets, to terms. Water was scarce and the seeds of the rare plant life capable of surviving and bearing _fruits_, in its various meanings and interpretations, to maturity even rarer. A seed… of anything at all… should not even be here, in the place where discarded things gathered, in the first place. Dead or not.

In the end though, there really was no point in wondering the how, the why, and the if. It was there and she found it. Simple as that.

The events that followed mirrored Kagome's discovery of the lemon verbena seed in their simplicity and natural order of escalation. The effects of such events however, were anything but simple.

She came home when the sun went down. Putting her bag of finds of the day in the assigned slot, she made a beeline for the children chamber. When she came in, the children twittered in joy and excitement. They wrapped around her, chirping in the language universal to all the children in all the worlds, undeterred by the scents of garbage, sweat and toil emanating from her hair, her clothes, her body.

She sang along too. Meaningless words that partook in their childish happiness and chased away her own heartache. Then she took out the dead seed and made a wordless gesture of '_Look what I have for you here!_'

At once, they gathered around her, eyes wide and open mouth.

The seed of the lemon verbena lay in the palm of her grubby hand, tiny and black and lifeless. Then Kagome reached deep inside her, deeper and deeper until she touched upon the wellspring of strength that had always been with her, even in death. It came to her readily, easily, like a pet welcoming the return of its owner after a long absence. The rush of its power was heady, but she steadied her heart and focused upon the seed.

The most basic of a Miko's power. To heal. Brought to the next level. She can feel the soul of the seed, not dead, never dead, because souls never truly died, but dormant. She reached out, touched it, coaxed it slowly out of its slumber.

Before the wide eyes of the children, the seed stirred. Its coarse, black shell broke and from within the crack, a tiny green sprout appeared. It did not stop there however. The sprout grew, sprang one leaf, two, lengthened and branched off, until all of a sudden it was not a single seed in her hand but a rapidly growing plant.

The children oohed and ahhed but she put her free hand in front of her mouth in a silencing gesture. Then she stood up and led them out to the back door where there was a patch of earth between the door and the barbwire fence. Stepping out on the cold, cracked earth, she lowered herself on one knee.

The plant in her hand had grown a headful of leaves, then buds started springing from the tips of its soft, green branches. She dug a hole in the hard, barren dirt, lower the root of the tree into it, filled up the hole, then she stood up and watched as the last of her power inside the lemon verbena sapling bloomed into beautiful, luminous purple and white flowers.

She allowed herself a moment, savoring the sudden but much treasured moment of beauty. Surely this was a miracle. In a place such as this where new life more often than not was snuffed out before it could truly bloom. Out of all the foragers digging through the vast expanse of garbage in the landfill, it was she that happened upon that single dead seed.

She looked to the children and drank in the expressions of pure wonder that lighted up their faces. The sweetness of their innocence filled her heart. Long ago, before she had landed in this strange, new world, she had made a promise to a certain someone to never use her power for the sake of herself, not even when her life was at stake… especially when her life was at stake.

But here, now, in this village where blood mingled in the sand and the land itself soaked with sorrow, these orphaned children deserved a little miracle to brighten their day.

* * *

Of course, this was how they discovered her power. The ninja, their Kazekage, the entire village, and then, eventually, the entire ninja world.

But not all at first of course, and not so quickly. In a land where ordinary humans were capable of feats she had only previously seen in great and powerful demons, a little lemon tree growing over night in the backyard of the State-funded Home for the Poor and the Lost can be easy to overlook.

Gradually though, words started to spread. Children had no concept of secret... and possessed an endless willingness to share their wonder. Before long, she found herself pulled to aside by the Chief of the Center and the single medic unfortunate enough to pick the draw for monthly vagabond duty.

There were a lot of words exchanged, the majority of which flew right over her head, and a lot of wild gestures, pointing at her, then at the sapling they had uprooted and put in a bowl (still green and vibrant with life, even now when it was no longer feeding on her spiritual power, despite the hard, black soil encasing its roots), then right back at her.

"Nan Chakra nai." Said the chief, wagging his finger at her. She understood it a little. It meant 'no'. Out of all the languages in the world, yes and no were always the first two words picked up by all new learners, closely followed by _'hello'_, _'goodbye'_, _'I love you'_, and _'where's the toilet?'_. But no what? No chakra? What was chakra? And what did it have to do with her?

The medic shrugged and uttered two words. "Kekkai Genkai." Followed by a string of incomprehensible sounds that, when combined, gave the impression of _'I've seen weirder things. What are you getting your feathers all ruffled for?'_

Somewhere in the tail end of their conversation, they turned their gazes on her and she felt a shift… a sudden spike in awareness to the atmosphere. It was as if all of a sudden they were seeing her, really her, Kagome Higurashi of the Shikon no Tama, for the first time and not the frail, foreign, and aimless girl she had been these past weeks.

Warily, the medic growled. "Kazekage-sama…." His voice dropped an octave, growing hard and cold as steel all of a sudden.

"Nan chakra nai." The Center Chief repeated, softly and almost warily this time, and as he spoke, his gaze turned from her to the medic, who, in reply, snapped his attention back to his counterpart and let loose a string of hisses, sharp gaze flying between her and the Chief.

"Nan chakra nai." Repeated the Chief, his hands held in a placating gesture, and more and more his voice grew soft and slow, and then finally he put one hand in his pocket only to withdraw from it a single brown grain.

Rice. She would recognize it anyday. In his hand, the Chief held a single, full-germ rice grain. It was black and brown with disease and, like its predecessor the lemon verbena seed, had rotted to death a long time ago.

Gently, he took her hand, put the grain on her palm, and folded her fingers shut around it.

"Ueru." He commanded. The tension creased the corner of his eyes.

Realization came to Kagome like a lightning bolt. Of course, they wanted to make use of her power, wanted to test her, to see what she can do. The look on their faces was that of children eagerly looking forward to trying out a new toy.

Something rose in her chest. Not bitterness, but an overwhelming melancholy and a hint of trepidation. The power within her should never be used for the selfish gains of others. She had learned this lesson the hard way.

She pushed the Chief's hand back, returning the rice grain to him. Eyeing the medic in defiance, she showed him her bare throat.

"If it is death you wish to inflict upon me." She said in her own language. Only the second time ever that she attempted conversation since entering this world. "Then do to me as you wish. I am not afraid of you."

Her intent must have translated across languages… or at least showed in the tone of her voice and the nuances of her gestures, because right afterwards there was a hush. She saw the medic narrowing his eyes, his hands straying to his belt where rows of steel senbon the length of a full finger hung.

Before the medic made a move however, the Chief of the Homeless Center stopped him cold with one raised hand.

"Nan Chakra Nai." He repeated for a third time to his fellow villager, patient and soft, but unyielding.

For a second time, he forced the dead rice grain into her hand. This time however, he didn't stop here. His hands came to her face, gripped her chin. He steered her towards the open window through which she could see the afternoon sea of hungry vagabonds.

They were filthy, as usual, and hungry. They rose their arms and clamored in front of the steel grates where public welfare staffs handed out dried, tasteless rations in snatches. A veritable sea of clawing hands and faces mad and naked with hunger. In the midst of this sea, she saw the children for whom she made the lemon flower bloom.

There was a sound to her ears. A word uttered with such sincerity she didn't need to know the language to understand what it meant.

"Please." Said the Chief of the Sunagakure Center for the Homeless. She saw then that she had been wrong about him. With her head still faced away from the duo and for the second time since coming to this world, she reached deep inside for that shimmering wellspring within her and withdrew from it a breath, a light.

In her hand, the rice grain grew warmer, and warmer, and in a sudden spurt, bursted forth from within her tightly clenched fist. When she turned back, what she now held in one hand was a single stalk of rice, gold and gleaming with promises in the reflected afternoon sun, its branches laden with new grains.

The medic and the chief eyed her speechlessly as they contemplated the ramification of what they had just witnessed. That was no Mokuton jutsu as they had hypothesized before coming here. No. This was something more than that. A miracle surely. Because in all the history of Sunagakure and all the history of the entire ninja world, not even the most powerful of them could breathe life, true life and not the twisted imitation of it, into things already dead, not unless they paid the price with their own.

Not unless they were the Sage of Six Paths himself.

* * *

**End Chapter 1**

* * *

1/ I got sidetracked by yet another plot bunny. I'm not sorry (though you are still welcomed to kick me in the butt for it).

2/ When Kagome wetted her facemask with a handful of water in the beginning of the chapter: this is actually a real life desert survival technique. By wetting her face mask and wearing it, she prevents her body moisture from escaping through her nose and mouth and delay dehydration which is the number one cause of death for people who got lost in the desert.

3/ Not a lot of dialogues in this chapter. This is intentional and is designed to create a sense of mental isolation, mirroring Kagome's state of mind (lost in a strange new world, alone and unable to communicate). This will gradually change in subsequent chapters as Kagome learnt the language bit by bit and the story ventures into the POV of other characters (the 4th Kazekage for example, etc…)

4/ This story is basically my attempt to write a character that is strong without being a fighter, who forces change without the use of violence and who, by surrendering, actually wins the war. I have grown bored with the usual power trip protagonist type and is trying out new things. Maybe it will work. Maybe it won't. In the end, I simply want to have fun and enjoy what I write.

5/ There's going to be a lot of world building for Suna and the ninja world, politics, and characterization (my kink, baby!) in this story. And romance! Can't forget that. But it's not going to be the way most people expect it (my readers who came from Tis Femina should already know my propensity for screwing with my readers. Again, I am not sorry! At all!)


	2. Chapter 2: Of Fools and Gold

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Inuyasha nor Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Beta: Michelle T.

**Chapter 2:**** Of Gold and Fools**

"_What glitters may not be gold; and even wolves may smile; and fools will be led by promises to their deaths."_

\- Lauren Oliver -

* * *

He watched the girl through the one-way glass pane on the wall. She sat beside the barred windows, looking down on the humming village below. Sunlight streamed on her face, drawing curves of shadows and light on the incredibly young visage.

She couldn't have been more than eighteen, he thought. A child, only just starting to bud into something more. There were secret places still on the planes of her face, and its softness was at once repulsive and inviting to him .

"Yondaime Kazekage-sama." Someone called. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was from the sheer tone alone. There was always a definite lack of respect for his official title in Chiyo of the Gokyodai's voice. Just as well since the retired counselor was already his great grand mother's age and had seen him since he was a snot-nosed genin. He supposed it was difficult to allocate the appropriate reverence to one who would always be a little kid in her eyes.

"Is that the one?"

He nodded imperceptibly, eyes still focused on the girl on the other side of the glass pane. She dangled her legs from the edge of the chair, swinging them idly back and forth, her toes ghosting over the floor. The action made her appear even younger, almost childish.

The shinobi in him disapproved. He had many soldiers of the same age, kunoichi who faced twice the dangers their shinobi comrades did on the burden of their gender alone. In the world of ninja, such… innocence… invited disasters.

"Doesn't look like much," commented Chiyo.

"They never do," he said in reply as he turned away and faced Chiyo in full. " Kekkei Genkai are naturally deceiving in appearance. It's the quiet ones, the least visible ones that are always the most dangerous. A little child may pose the greatest threat. The burliest brute may be the most brittle link of a chain. Such differences are difficult to tell, but they are the ones that decide who will come out the victors on the battlefield. Has the council come to a decision?"

"Maybe… when I'm finally dead," was the answer. "Those bickering idiots always like to draw out on decisions too big for them to handle." Then she turned on him. "What are you doing waiting for them to make your decision for you? Are you not Kazekage, brat? I hope I do not need to tell you the true worth of this girl's power."

The true worth of her power? He glanced at the girl on the side of the glass pane. Yes. That was something he also wanted to know.

"That is… if the reports on what she can do hold true." He said simply.

_Mumei, Nameless, because even now we do not know what is her real name_. He thought to himself, silently going over what little they had managed to glean off the records and the people who had been spending time with the girl. _Discovered at the village gate exactly 59 days prior. At first we assumed her to be one of our lost citizens or a merchant who got lost on the Desert routes. She was taken in and given the requisite treatment for desert-stranded subjects, as per the village policy. Once her records and fingerprints were checked against the archives however, it turned out that she was not one of ours. She had no documents nor traces on her person indicative of her origin and even interrogation and surface mind probes yielded nothing as she did not speak our language. _

That was the first anomaly. All five of the great nations and even smaller nations within the cluster of continents known to this day spoke the same language. There were records of a time long past when people of different countries spoke different languages but the timeline must have been eons in the past. And in any case, to this day, such records were still considered myths at best.

Then came the second anomaly. _When checked with border patrol teams, we found no reports nor sightings of any entrants passed the border even resembling the subject_. Due to the open nature of the border surrounding Kaze no Kuni as well as the vast desert that made up the bulk of the nation terrain, border patrol teams all had at least one sensor in their roster and, when combined, the number and range of the sensors should always cover the entirety of the borderline, ensuring that the teams would always get prior notice on any unreported entries. Even in the case that someone… or something managed to slip past the patrol perimeter, they would have been discovered at one among the many mountain pass choke points surrounding the village. The fact that even the teams at these choke points couldn't pick up on her presence until Mumei was right in front of the village gate can only mean that…

_She had no chakra…_

Which would explain why she was able to slip past the net so easily as well as the leniency of the interrogation team. Without a full scan, they had thought her chakra only abnormally low and categorized her as a harmless civilian and not a potential spy sent by a rival village.

Then the third, final, and greatest anomaly of all. The girl's Kekkei Genkai.

Discovered by the staffs of the village Public Welfare Center approximately one week ago, the power to, as it appeared on the surface, induce growth in all plant life… even beyond death. Under this yet nameless Kekkei Genkai, a single plant life went from seed stage, through germination, growth, full maturity, into harvestable age within mere seconds. Types or species of the specific plant made no difference. Plants with life cycles spanning decades grew in the same amount of time as those that completed their life cycle within days.

"You are thinking too much." Chiyo cut his thoughts in the middle. "It's the downfall of us thinker types. We like to tinker too much with the theoretical side of jutsu creation and development." She said, referring to their roles as spearheads in Sunagakure jutsu R&amp;D operations. Then she paused, casting a considering look at the still unaware girl. "Though I must admit, it is a most interesting Kekkei Genkai the likes of which I have never seen before. I can barely understand the mechanics of its function as it is. It is so easy to mistake it for the Mokuton Kekkei Genkai… but while there are similarities between the two, calling them the same would be an amateur's mistake and I would loath to make that kind of mistakes at my age." She put on gnarled finger and tapped against the glass pane. "The simplest way to describe it…"

She stopped again as she weighed her words.

"... is that it is an ability that negates all effects of the natural world upon a single plant-based organism and reroutes all its natural needs for sustenance to the source of Mumei's power."

"In other words…" He cut in, "the instance the ability is activated, the Kekkei Genkai user effectively becomes the earth, the air, the water, and the sun for the subject which she casted her power upon. Once it is activated, she becomes the sustenance and the sole source of life for that single subject. It is the power… of a tyrant… regardless of how benevolent it appears to be. " He left off there, not mentioning the fact that they had no idea whether this ability only worked on plant life… or more…

_If she can activate her power on a non-botanical lifeform… say…. a human, such ability then, regardless of its owner's lack of physical strength would make her a force to be reckoned with indeed._

Chiyo laughed, suddenly and loudly. "I suppose that is another way to describe it. Such grand words for something we know so little of… but… skepticism is a good trait for a Kazekage…"

"Assume all cautions when dealing with unknown abilities, presume nothing and leave nothing unquestioned. That has always been the policy of the jutsu R&amp;D department… which you yourself laid the foundation of."

"That is true," the old poison master acquiesced… before getting off on another tangent. "The illogical idiosyncrasy of this Kekkei Genkai is the same as the Mokuton."

He tilted his head an almost imperceptible millimeter towards her, indicating his interest in Chiyo's personal observation of Mumei's Kekkei Genkai.

"Konoha teaches its children that the Mokuton is a combination of Earth and Water release brought to the next level. But this teaching is just that—children's tales woven to mystify and deify a power that should by all rights be brought onto the examination table and dissected for its irregularities. Anyone with a brain will see that when mixed together, water and earth would only create mud and not plant life. If only water and earth were sufficient to forest an entire country, we of the desert would have done the same to restore the fertility of our own soil long ago. The combination of only water and earth alone aren't enough to create the element known as wood. From this simple observation alone, there _**must **_be a third secret element involved."

He nodded, crossing his arms. He had thought the same despite never having shared his personal observation.

"Of course, there are various examples of advanced Kekkei Tota that combine three elements into one unique release, the Jiton release possessed by not one but two generations of Tsuchikage is a prime example, so this should come as no surprise to any jutsu masters with eyes to see and a brain between their ears. What is special about the Mokuton… is that unlike the Jiton which combines earth, wind, and fire, this third release is not an elemental release at all but is something that is unique to the Senju bloodline.

"_The third release is… a life release."_

Also correct. He nodded again, unfazed by Chiyo's revelation.

"Out of all Release type Kekkei Genkai, the Mokuton is unique in that it is the only release that deals with 'living matters'. Traditionally, release type Kekkei Genkai are manifestations of natural forces and phenomenons. Fire, earth, wind, water. None of these things carry life in and of themselves. Even advanced release Kekkei Genkai and Kekkei Tota are no exception to this one principal. The Mokuton, the Kekkei Genkai that releases the element of wood, living, breathing organism in themselves and not a force of nature, is the sole exception to this rule… up until now."

"Therefore, it is not unfair… to assume that this secret third element possessed by those of Senju blood is the key that grants the spark of life to the Mokuton." He finished Chiyo's statement, having come to the same conclusion as hers long ago.

"The mythical Sage arts possessed by only a rare handful of individuals within our world at any one time. Mokuton Hashirama Senju… was one such individual." Chiyo continued. "It is said that the key to mastering this art and by extension a higher form of chakra called Senchakra is to train one's body and mind until the point where one can touch, withstand, draw upon, and control the life energy of the natural world itself. This correlates with our theory that the Mokuton is a Kekkei Tota that combines not only earth and water but also the element of life energy taken from nature to create the living element of wood."

That went without saying.

"Based on the similarities we have observed so far between the Mokuton and this girl's Nameless Kekkei Genkai, I think it is safe to assume that they run on the same fuel. The element of life that can only the Sages can perceive. The key to their life-giving property must be this mythical life force of the natural world. That also explains why our sensors couldn't get a read even when she was using her power right in front of them… simply because they cannot perceive it."

"It is," he agreed.

"However, even the Mokuton has its limitations. Both of these Kekkei Genkai may have various similarities but there are several key differences. One…"

Chiyo held up one gnarled finger.

"Mokuton jutsus still need chakra to fuel their power. This girl has none. In the last week, even with the enormous number of plant life, crops and trees she had fostered, she had never once shown signs of fatigue due to the use of her power. Two…"

Came the second finger.

"The Mokuton requires acute understanding of chakra pathways, jutsu theories, and elaborate hand seals to execute jutsus of higher power and complexity levels. In so far, we have observed nothing of the sorts from Mumei. She has no chakra pathways, as impossible as that is, and the requirements for her to activate her power on anything seem to consist of mere physical touch and her own will. Three…"

She held three fingers in the air, drawing circular motions on the glass pane with them. There was a light to her eyes that he hadn't seen in a long time. Anticipation. Amusement. A quiet delight that hid something fierce underneath. The last time he had seen Chiyo of the Gokyoudai like this... that was back when he was a little genin kid who didn't know his own limitation and on sheer ignorance, made the mistake of challenging her to a ninja kumite to prove his 'worthiness as the future Kazekage'.

"The Mokuton is mostly limited to wood. There are accounts of the rare Mokuton users exerting their power on other plant life - shrubs, flowers, weeds and vines - but with these plants, the effect of their power are incredibly limited. We have never heard of Hashirama Senju himself resurrecting an entire field of dead crops and while he was alive he was the force behind Hi no Kuni thriving forestry and wood trade. Agriculture and other food related industries were chaperoned by the Akimichi instead. Historical documents also accounted for several crop failure seasons during Shodaime Hokage's reign, causing fluctuations and, in one case, a war-time food crisis. All of this should never have happened if Shodaime Hokage indeed had the power to resurrect and fuel the growth of _**any **_plant life such as Mumei demonstrated."

"And… last but not least." Said Chiyo, her attention fully focused upon the subject of their discussion. "The Mokuton does not posses the power to negate the effects of external factors such as sustenance, soil condition, or even the weather upon the trees it creates or nurtures… not pass the limits of the jutsu caster's chakra reservoir anyway. Among the countless trees created by Shodaime Hokage, only those that were planted upon fertile ground, i.e. that within the territory of Hi no Kuni itself, still survive to this day. Those that were created during his battles in other countries, over barren land or under harsh conditions not suitable for their species, ended up withering away the moment the chakra powering them ran out. As we have seen… this is not the case with Mumei's power. Even planted in barren soil and left out to harsh desert conditions, Mumei's plants thrive."

There was a hint of wonder and exasperation in her voice, as if she was annoyed at the fact that she couldn't quite explain the mechanics behind the nameless Kekkei Genkai. "It can be that we merely haven't found the limits to her power yet. Perhaps if the plants are far enough away from her or enough time has passed for whatever it is that nurtures them to run out… but in so far, the conditions with which we have tested her power have already far outstripped those of the Mokuton."

"From these observations alone…" She concluded. "... it is clear that we are dealing with a vastly superior Kekkei Genkai than the Mokuton possessed by the very founder of Konohagakure."

"... you don't sound particularly pleased about that." He said after a full minute of silence from the usually verbose master of puppetry. He knew what she must be thinking and was goading her into admitting the same.

"... Despite scolding you for overthinking things, I ended up prattling on and on." She said finally, smiling in self-depreciating humor.

"I do not mind. Even the prattling of one of the Gokyoudai is filled with wisdom."

"How cute." Chiyo gave a bark of laughter. "If you used that tongue on the council, they may be more open to going your way once in a while." Then she went quiet for a minute before continuing.

"We sure talked a lot without even looking at that little girl face to face. This is proof that we, you and I, members of the most influential and most powerful group of this entire village, are actually afraid."

He said nothing to Chiyo's statement, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her.

"The truth of the matter is, we are scared of her power. Any fools would take her Kekkei Genkai at face value and not understand the true ramification of its potentials. But we… because we can comprehend the intricacies behind such deceptively simple ability, that we are… actually… afraid of what we may find. The fact that you are standing here behind the wall of this room, behind all these containment seals..."

She made a gesture, pointing at the seal-laden wall before them.

"... is testament to your fear."

"...I prefer to call it being well prepared." He replied, matter-of-factly.

"Preparation hmm?" Chiyo countered. "I suppose that is true enough. But the fact that you have plastered the same jutsu negation seals on your body means that you intend to face the girl by yourself soon. You want to find things out and speak to her face to face, a task which may be carried out by any of our top rank interrogators. There really is no need for the Kazekage himself to undertake this, even less when the subject concerned is both a foreigner and the possessor of a Kekkei Genkai whose true power remains an unknown. It is simply too dangerous for the leader of the village to even be in the same room with such unknown quality… that is… unless there is something to be gained well worth the risk to the Kazekage himself as well as the village."

Correct again. Truly even in their old age, few things escaped the Gokyoudai's eyes.

"The fact that you plan to undertake this task by yourself… and most likely… yourself alone without even a single assistant..." She said, drawing her words out slowly, each with careful consideration. "... must mean that whatever it is you want to find out… or to do… you would like to keep well-guarded only to yourself and probably a few of the top ranking councilors. This need for secrecy must mean that… you have come to the same conclusion as I have about the source of this girl's power… and you do not want this information, if you ever manage to confirm it, to be spread out beyond your control. And… that is why you will not let anyone else handle Mumei but yourself. Am I correct?"

He went quiet for a while, before finally speaking up.

"In… the mere span of a week, and supplied with only a basket of dead seeds, a single person, this Mumei, was able to create enough food to feed our entire village for a year and… she did this without ever showing signs of taxing on herself, without disrupting her daily life and works." He can feel the old bitterness creeping up in his guts.

"I do not need to tell you what this means to a village such as ours. This single ability to create massive amount of food in so little time probably won't mean much to the other four great villages. However, for us desert dwelling folks alone… it would mean our life or death."

The desert that gave them their name. The desert that harbored them and protected them from invasion and hostile forces. The desert that bore them in its bosom, that forged them and made them in its image. They said desert dwelling folks, ninja of the Sand, were a hardy people who thrived even in the most unforgiving of environments, that a Suna nin would make success out of failure even at the cost of his life, regardless of the odds against him, that Suna nins just didn't know when to quit.

This was all true.

However, as much as the desert that made their home was their pride, it was also their bane. Despite what a lot of young blood ninja would like to think, a ninja village cannot be carried on by the trade of killing alone. In the first Kage summit held by the Shodai of all five great nations, the founding Kazekage himself acknowledged this fact by demanding compensation for Sunagakure not in the form of money, bloodline, or weapons, but in the form of fertile land capable of bearing and sustaining life.

This barren homeland, this bane that they would never be able to escape, over the years had proven to be extremely costly on the business of running a ninja village.

For every ninja Suna produced, it had to pay triple, sometimes quadruple the cost other villages did. Necessities other villages took for granted had to be imported at cut-throat prices from other countries. Food had to be bought from the neighboring Ta no Kuni. Water had to be tubed underground from Amegakure. Other necessities were also no exception. This land simply had next to no production value and simply could not compete with other nations. Even gold trading afforded by his own Gold Dust release could barely hold the economy together.

It was for this simple reason that Sunagakure had always had to fight for its existence and its fragile economy from the day of its creation.

And now… literally from nowhere this little slip of a girl appeared and she alone possessed the single Kekkei Genkai capable of erasing the unfair disadvantage that had dogged the village from its founding days, effectively reversing a situation that had persisted for more than a hundred years.

"She is…" he started, "... or will become… incredibly valuable to us very soon. Those very same councilors that are arguing about what to do with her will soon see the worth of Mumei's power… just as you and I did." He didn't stop there. "They will then go one more step. Blinded by the benefits created by her power, they will not see beneath Mumei's power. They will not be able to comprehend the true depth of what she is capable of."

"Oh ho… by those words I suppose you have your own guesses on what this Kekkei Genkai really is. Let's hear it then."

He paused momentarily, carefully weighing his words. "I believe that despite all our reasoning and hypotheses, we are both wrong about the true nature of Mumei's power." He said finally. His words immediately silence Chiyo.

"The only reason we are even discussing the mechanics of something that has so far defied all known rules of shinobi arts and blood limits, is because of its similarity with Shodaime Hokage's Mokuton. In the face of something so foreign… so bizarre that it is almost impossible to grasp… of course we latched onto the single familiarity we can see… which is its effect upon plant life. Howover, the truth of the matter is that we know too little for any of our theories to actually hold a modicum of truth in them."

His eyes were riveted onto the girl on the other side of the glass pane.

"Why is it that she is alive in the first place? A person who has no chakra and no pathways in their body should not even be able to live. Even the weakest of civilians have rudimentary pathways imbedded in their bodies. Even shinobis with crippled chakra systems, such as the Leaf's Green Beast, have _some_ amount of chakra in their bodies. Even newborns possess the blueprint of chakra pathways that will grow and mature with time. But Mumei… simply has none. She is a ghost to our senses, but she is also flesh and blood. Her mere existence defies our natural laws."

He touched the part of his chest right under the collarbone where the tip of a seal was visible.

"For all I know, these may be useless against her, but because I simply do not know for sure, this is the best I can come up with. What is it that she uses to fuel her ability? Is it truly this mythical life force of the world that only the Sages are capable of perceiving? But… we all know that Sage training takes decades to master even for the luminaries of our world... and we have all heard of the countless failures that ended in death. I have also heard rumors of a clan in a nameless country capable of passively absorbing the energy in the environment around them. This ability however, seems to force them into uncontrollable blood rages at times during which they can kill countless of their own clansmen. From these accounts, we can see that life energy is not the harmless and benevolent force of life as its name may suggest. In fact, from all existing records, it appears to be an incredibly chaotic and destructive force. To be honest, we should not even be surprised. After all, we of the desert know better than anyone that nature is an unforgiving mistress. Why then should her life blood be any less ferocious?"

He paused, watching Chiyo's face from the corner of his eyes. No surprise as far as he can see. Jutsu developers really did think alike.

"But if that is the case… then… what is it that enables Mumei to harness such volatile force of nature? What stops her from being consumed by the source of her power itself? Are we to believe this is also part of her Kekkei Genkai? Is that why she is still alive despite not having chakra in her body? Because this mysterious life energy effectively replaces chakra for her? A naturally occurring savant who lives off of the most dangerous kind of energy in the ninja world… if that is the truth… then there is no way what we have seen is the full extent of her powers…The very foundation is already vastly different from our own. I believe… that we have both been wrong and that Mumei's nameless Kekkei Genkai is something else entirely and not what it appears to be."

That thought… filled him with trepidation.

"Of course, the council will not see it as such," said Chiyo, continuing his line of reasoning. "Once the effect of her plant growth inducing power finally sinks in, they will be too afraid of losing what is right in front of their eyes to experiment and find out the truth. By that time, our own village, our own people will have already become wholly dependant on the '_**sustenance**_' she provides."

She stopped there, eyes widened as if she had just realized something, then laughed .

"A tyrant of life indeed," said Chiyo finally. "Though I suppose that is why you will let no one else but yourself handle her. You would like to affirm her worth and… depending on what you see in that little girl… decide to either destroy her before her tyrant's power can take root or shackles her to our village and force her to live the rest of her life for the good of Sunagakure."

He said nothing in response, simply put his hand on the door.

_This bloodline,_ he thought, _is too useful to go to waste. In the desert where things are scarce, any and everything serves a purpose. Mumei is no different. Even if her power proves too volatile, he will not kill her. _

The seals reacted to his chakra and together, slowly at first, then faster, they moved, whirled.

The ninja world was no stranger to the many ways with which to forcefully extract a valuable bloodline limit from its original owner. The fact that Mumei was a girl of malleable, fertile age and a lone foreigner in a land as alien to her as she was to it only gave him more options with which to choose from. The thought left a sour note in his mind, after all he himself had a daughter near her age, but he had done worse things for his village… in the name of his village. The suffering of one person could never amount to the suffering of an entire people. The happiness of one person could never compare to the happiness of an entire nation.

This was but a trifle in the grand scheme of things.

With little click-clacks, one by one, the containment seals engraved into the door untangled themselves, unlocking the many layers of stone gates that led to the chamber where Mumei was kept.

He gazed inside and saw her looking back.

* * *

**End Chapter 2**

* * *

1\. I'm hoping to turn out the third chapter in one week. I already have near 200 words laid out and have made a promise to restrict myself to short chapters (3-5k words) at a time since long chapters have the tendency to make writing really slow (hint: Tis Femina speed)

2\. This story will be romance. Any guesses?

3\. Don't jump to conclusions. Any readers who are familiar with my work will know that I love nothing more than screwing with my reader's head (Nope! Not sorry!)

4\. I also hate simpleton characterization or one-dimensional characters. People that you think will be the villains maybe something else entirely and people who you think you can trust may end up stabbing you in the back. That said though, what do you think of the characterization of 4th Kazekage and Chiyo in this chapter (they are partly built on the info that they were both jutsu developers - Chiyo with her kinjutsu and the 4th Kazekage's creation of new jutsu being credited by one of the Suna councilor as one major factor in keeping the village economy from sinking - thus they both have very analytic and incredibly logical mindset. They are also in the position of power and under the pressure of leadership so they do not lack for ruthlessness either)

5\. Here are the ages of the people in this story since the beginning, just for reference:

Kagome: 17-18 years old

4th Kazekage (aka Gaara's dad): 38 years old (In Canon, he died around 40 years old)

Gaara: 10 years old

Kankuro: 14-15 years old

Temari: 15-16 years old

Naruto (and his year mates): 10 years old

Chiyo: 67-68 years old (still advising during 4th Kazekage's reign as stated in canon through the resurrected Kazekage's flashback)

That should also give you an idea on the timeline we will work with. Kagome's presence in Suna will, of course, has an impact on the ninja world, the first of which is the strengthening of Suna (since she alone can pretty much feed the entire village with almost zero cost), thus making them less desperate and a lot less likely to enter into a risky alliance with Orochimaru.


	3. Chapter 3: Open and Closed

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Beta: Michelle T.

**Chapter 3:**** Open and Closed**

'_Overcome the angry by non-anger; overcome the wicked by goodness; overcome the miser by generosity; overcome the liar by truth'_

\- Buddha Dhammapada -

* * *

The newcomer… reeked of old blood.

Blood and sand and heat and the twang of explosive powder and maybe the sharp edge of something metal… maybe that little thing that peeked out from the collar of his shirt. It was a familiar scent, a scent she knew well from years of travel across a war torn Feudal era. The very same scent that hung like an invisible shroud around the many human warlords they crossed path with on their journey… and… occasionally, a few demons too. In the first half year of her journey, this incredibly distinct scent would often drive her to the edge of the road where she promptly proceed to reintroduce whatever she had eaten back to the world.

She was an undeniable city girl in a world where the concept of civilized and squeaky clean metropolitans didn't even exist. And... while she wasn't shy of this fact, the time it took to acclimatize her sensitivity to a historically appropriate level had always been something of a sore point for her. (No, Inuyasha, I do not have to get over it! You stink! Go wash!)

A half year it took. Afterwards, the scent itself became a sign of things that required her utmost attention, a premonition that men who were familiar with swords and the trade of death dealing were close in its wake. This time however, it was a mere ghost on the edge of her senses, most likely a result of her growing power, but it was there nonetheless and she would be a fool to ignore what it usually entailed. So the moment the newcomer entered, he had her full attention.

She sat up a little straighter in her chair and watched him as he came in. The door closed and locked behind him. It didn't really have to. She didn't know what kind of magic these people wielded but for as long as she had been in here, regardless of whether the door was open or not, the only thing she could see beyond them was darkness.

He sat down across from her on a chair, a table between them, paper, pen brush and ink on it. His face was absolutely blank off emotions except for the faintest hint of age on it.

He said something then as he reached for the pen brush. His voice was soft and slow, almost gentle, a clear contrast with the ghostly stink that hung around him. He held out the other hand and slowly brought it across.

When he finally touched her on the wrist with his fingers, he paused and in the ensuing silence seemed to be waiting for her recoil or to yell out some protests. He got none of those reactions however.

"Which one is the real you?" She murmured to herself, but even if he did pick up on it, he wouldn't have understood anyway. This language thing was such a bother. If she were to spend the rest of her life here, she must learn this language "Is it your scent? Or your voice? I cannot tell.". For now, her curiosity was greater than her wariness so she stayed still. She saw something in the newcomer's face then, an expression whose meaning she wasn't quite sure of. For a split second there, it felt as though he was judging her by her lack of protest and the judgement… might not have been in her favor.

He took her wrist fully into his hand, turned it around so that it was palm-up. His other hand dipped the pen brush into the ink fountain to his right and, with a swirl, he began drawing odd symbols on the skin of her palm.

"Ofuda?" She asked, not really expecting an answer. Much to her surprise, he stopped his brush stroke for a moment to utter a single word "Fuin."

She blinked. There was something familiar in that foreign word.

But before she could give it much thought, the tickling of wet pen brush against her palm had already resumed. Within mere minutes, he - in the place of a name she dubbed him Mr. Poker Face - had finished doodling whatever it was on her hand.

He turned it around a few times, inspecting his handy work, before settling the brush down to a side and…

_Can you hear me?_

The sheer shock of finally hearing something comprehensible to her ears for the first time in many many weeks jolted through her like electric. She almost shot up right from the chair but the man - Mr. Poker Face she reminded herself - 's grip on her hand stopped her dead in her track.

_Going by that reaction I would say that you do._

Again, the voice. She studied him intently. Never once did he open his mouth. And the voice inside her head sounded more like…

_It is a simple communication technique reserved for those with severe disabilities_. Well that was definitely not a man's voice. That was her momma's voice! _It transfers my thoughts directly into your mind and speaks to you using your own language, your own memory._

The voice in her head fluctuated from Souta's, then Grandpa's, then her friend's voice.

_It's the only way we can communicate with you. There is no one out there who speaks your tongue. It is only one-way, however._

Well… that… blew. For a minute there, she was hoping it would be a two way deal. The past several months had been… tough.

"I suppose if that's the best at the moment, I should not complain." She said, more to herself than to him, before attempting to crack a smile. She was determined to be positive about things. She was done with moping. Her attempt elicited a non-plus look out of Mr. Poker Face.

_Because I cannot hear your answers, listen closely. You know how to say yes and no in our language do you not?_

"_Yes_" She said in reply. Based on the reactions she still got these past weeks from various people, her pronunciation needed work.

_That will do. Now…_

The grip holding her tightened.

_Do you know where you are?_

"No." There was a lot more she wanted to say but she had no words with which to say it.

_You are in… the Village Hidden in The Sand. What are you?_

The suddenness of that question seemed to shock her as much as it did him, if that slightest tightening of his jawline was anything to go by. Despite fully knowing that she couldn't answer anything other basic yes or no question, he had asked a question of what. What and not who.

_Excuse me._ He followed up. His face had gone perfectly blank once again. _I forgot myself. Never you mind that question._

Oh, but she did mind. Where did that come from? And it definitely was something Kagome should mind. Questions like that didn't come from nothing. It definitely sounded like Mr. Poker Face cared a great deal about that. Was that a slip of the tongue? Mind?

Frowning, she tugged on their conjoined hands, giving them a look. Fuin, he said. Was it the same with her Ofuda? The warding of demonic things? Something to do with sealing or warding? A technique to transfer one's thoughts to another's mind. Was his curiosity so high that it slipped through… whatever this was?

Was it even curiosity at all?

He was saying something but she kept tuning him out, looking over his shoulder at the staunchly closed door behind him.

It wasn't curiosity, wasn't it? It was wariness. Fear of the unknown. She wasn't exactly surprised. The common denizens of the Sengoku Jidai wouldn't have reacted nearly as calmly to what appeared as unknown magic as these desert folks did. She had seen what the warriors of these people could do. Small trips passed the outskirts of the training area reserved for warriors of the village. Only glimpses from afar, but she had seen them none the less. She had thought displaying her own little spark wouldn't cause such commotion but judging from all the attention (and dead seeds!) she was getting in the past week, perhaps what she could do was not strictly among their capabilities.

Kagome decided then that she wasn't going to let that question go unanswered. But how to go about voicing something she had no word for? How did Miko translate into the Sand people's language?

"Ahh… uh…" She started with pointing, first at the weird 'Fuin' doodling on her palm - hidden by Mr. Poker Face's grip but there none the less—then at herself. He gave her a look.

_What are you trying to say?_

She pointed again, at the doodle then at herself, swirling her finger once.

_You are… a seal master?_ There was a definite shift of expression on his face, but it was so subtle she couldn't tell what it might mean. She pouted, frowned, and shook her head for good measure.

The duties of a miko did actually entail the creation of ofuda and sutras yes, but… whatever a seal master was, she was sure it wasn't a miko. Ofuda scripting was only a small part of a miko's responsibilities. Priesthood during the Sengoku Jidai was symbolized by the usual Shinpu Ofuda or Omamori though and Miko, when one got down to it, was also a member of the priesthood. She was hoping he would make the connection eventually.

_No?_ Mr. Poker Face went quiet as she kept on her pointing game and their one-sided conversation transformed into an impromptu session of Taboo. It took several more attempts before he hit the jackpot.

_Tag maker? Scribe?... Priest?_

She stopped and shot him an encouraging look.

_Priestess? You are a priestess?_

Not strictly. The definition of a Miko was… well. But they weren't likely to progress any further from there, so she gave a definitive nod (thank god nodding and shaking heads still meant the same thing here as they did in her past world).

… _Interesting_. He said… in the voice of her eighth grade math teacher, and regarded her coolly. _But that is neither here nor there. Priestess-san… _

"Miko" Stated Kagome, pointing to herself then to the doodle again.

… _Miko-san_. He didn't so much as twitch at her request… which she kind of was expecting him to. More and more he was reminding her of a certain dog demon lord before they actually managed to dethaw him from his prior freezing disposition.

_For the last…._

"No" She said loudly in the Sand people's language as he started speaking to her mind again, putting one finger right in front of his lips for good measure. Something flickered on his face and she thought she might have seen the slightest stiffening of his shoulders. Mr. Poker Face was no doubt a warrior if his 'scent' was anything to go by, but Kagome herself had faced down great demon lords who can level entire mountains with just a swing of their swords. This was the first real interaction she had ever had with another human being in this world, and by the gods she was going to do this the right way!

"Miko." She pointed at herself then turned her finger at him. "Miko…" And again.

He seemed to get it and for the first time she saw something like the slightest ghost of irritation zipping past his face. She might be wrong though but years of travelling with His Highness The Great Dog Demon Lord Sesshomaru had taught her to trust her guts about these things.

… _There really is not much time. I'm sure you would like to rest…._

"No" She said again, a little louder this time, a little firmer, tugged his hand and repeated her pointing. Her effort was rewarded with another blank, drawn out look, before finally…

_...The Shadow of the Wind. I am the Shadow of the Wind. _He repeated the title in his own language. Kahzair Kahgair?

Now that was a melodramatic title. Shadow of the Wind? How did that even happen? Could the wind actually cast shadows? That sounded a bit like an oxymoron phrase. Was she hearing things right or did Mr. Poker Face's doodle magic have a translation glitch? These thoughts zipped through her mind as she repeated the name.

"Shadow of the… Wind?" It sounded weird rolling out of her tongue. It sounded… boastful… in an incredibly awkward way. It sounded like it would fit right in with the many laughably egotistical MMORPG names Souta and his school pals usually made up for their guides and city raids. Lord_of_the_Universe_1166. Dark_Assassin_King_123. Lord_Fancy_McPants. That kind of names.

Some of her amusement must have shown because his eyes narrowed imperceptibly, as though hissing 'what is so amusing?' at her. She cast her gaze down to her feet like a naughty schoolgirl caught red-handed in the midst of mischief making, then back up. She cleared her throat in an effort to keep the smile off her face before pressing on.

"Miko. Kagome Higurashi." She pointed at herself - "_Shadow of the Wind_… tatada!" - then at him.

This time, it seemed Mr. Poker Face wasn't going to bother with protesting anymore.

…_. Satoosa. My name... is Satoosa... _

She could almost hear the put-upon tone even through his mind-voice, but she wasn't going to let that deter her. Beaming brightly, she bowed down, chiming.

"Nice to meet you Shadow of the Wind Satoosa-san."

In return, he gave the tiniest of nod, before pressing on.

_You have been the talk of town for the last week, Miko-san. _

She noted the use of her title and not her name but decided not to push this time.

_With all the things you have been doing, our people are grateful. They have also been asking questions. You are… after all… an unmistakable foreigner._ He said. _Since you can't say anything other than yes or no, I'm going to read out a list of countries. Say yes when you hear the name of your home._

He started off with a bunch of bizarre names then, and every time he pronounced each of them, she responded with dejected silence. When it got to name number eight (or was that nine? She was starting to lose track), she shook her head and said "No" out loud.

He regarded her for a moment, then…

_How far away is your home, Miko-san? _

She spread her hands in response, wide, wider, like a bird spreading its wings to take flight. He seemed to get it.

_Do you think…_ He said, the blankness of his face engulfed in… something… something sharp and full of thorns… _that you can ever find your way back home, Miko-san? _

"No." She murmured. What she meant was _Never_. Not in this lifetime anyway. The phantom pain was familiar, but if she still let it get to her at this point in time she would never have gotten out of that desert alive. More than the pain of separation, her will to persevere and to fulfill her promise endured.

Mr. Poker Face… Shadow of the Wind Satoosa-san... seemed to think it over for a moment, his eyes glued to her face. She knew the question he didn't ask. How did she get here?

"I…" She said, utilizing the few Sand people's words she had been snatching up in the last few days. The pronunciation still felt strange on her tongue, the way foreign things did. The words were slippery, unsure, and at any moment she felt they were going to slid free from her grasp.

"I…" She tried again, licking her dry lips. "... Lost…" That word was a new one. She had caught up on that by accident when the madame at the Homeless Shelter was trying to convey to her that one of the orphaned children had ran off to where he shouldn't, lost and stranded from his pack.

"I… lost…." That was her best effort.

_You are lost… from your home. _

It wasn't quite a question but she nodded yes anyway.

_Are there anyone else from your homeland who are also… lost?_ He followed up. The voice he used was a mix of momma's and grandpa's voice. They didn't quite fit his face. _Are there anyone out there looking for you... Miko-san?_

"No…" She muttered, quiet as a mouse.

_I see…_ He replied. _Then, would you like to start a new life here.. with us, Miko-san? You have made many of my people very happy. If you have no other place to go, let this be your new home instead. Ours is not as prosperous or beautiful a village as many others are, but we are grateful for what you have done for us and we can be very generous in our gratefulness. You will be provided for, taken care of. _

Kagome smiled sadly. There really was no need for him to 'sweeten the pot' for her. Her choice was already made a week ago, when she first touched that dead rice seed and made it bloom. The expression of the people's face and the shame that followed hot on its wake as she realized how far she had withdrawn into herself, to the point that she had subconsciously but also purposefully shy away from the suffering of others. A selfish reaction.

There was never a lack of suffering in this world, never a lack of despair and cruelty. It was a miko's duty to assuage these pains for as long as she lived. It was a miko's duty to live the entirety of her life selflessly, and to dispense with kindness without reservation.

"... Yes…." She said, whispering the word as if it held everything of her inside. In a way, it did. The past she left behind was barred from her forever. The way forward there was only one. "...Yes…"

"I…." another word she had learnt very early on though she had never used it before. "... want…" It felt heavy on her tongue, hot and heady and by saying it at last, for the first time, she felt she had finally committed. "I… want…"

Without needing to hear another word, he seemed to get it.

_Very well, I hereby welcome you as one of our own, Miko-san._ He said simply, without even a flicker of emotion on his face. He didn't look happy nor did he look… unhappy. For some reason, she felt as though this was a man whose sadness would be concealed in the blankness of his face and within its confines he would drown slowly, silently. Much like another she had known. His face was empty and the voice he used was one among the cacophony made up of the thousand voices of strangers she had long since forgotten. Faceless, nameless. He sounded as if he would have said the same thing regardless of whether she said yes or no. He put his other hand into his pocket then and withdrew from it something that glittered in the weak sunlight that streamed from the single window.

A bracelet made of pure gold, serrated in the middle and inscribed with words she could not understand. He presented it to her, holding it so that the straps hang limply over her delicate wrist.

She shot him a look. What is it?

_A gift_. He replied. _To thank you for what you have done for my people._

That was a lie. She knew it as surely as she could hear the faint scent of old blood drifting about him. The thanking part might not be complete hogwash but that pretty and expensive looking bracelet was more than it seemed. She eyed the unintelligible words etched onto its sides. They looked a little like the doodle he drew on her palm. Were they the same kind? Only with different functions? She had had experience with cursed jewelries before, her being the giver and enforcer of one herself, and by sheer experience, such… 'gift'... was better off as far away from her as it could.

She recoiled ever so lightly.

_What's wrong?_ He asked. _Don't you like it?_ His mind voice was a whisper and in the ensuing silence, his hand over her wrist seemed to grow in weight as it pressed down. She could feel the calluses on his fingers. The kind that came from weapon handling, same as Miroku and Inuyasha's. There was a steel-like firmness to the grip that belied its owner's perfectly calm and collected exterior.

Then it came to her all at once. The wariness of his words. The blankness of his face. This bracelet.

These people were afraid of her, of her power. They coveted its usefulness and was thankful for what she did for them, but they… or at the very least, their leaders… were wary of her all the same, and in their wariness, they did what countless others tried to do.

They seeked to control the source.

If she guessed correctly, which she bet she did. This bracelet with all that 'Fuin' inscribed onto them served that single purpose.

_You don't like it_. Satoosa's voice in her head cut her thoughts in the middle. _If you want…_ He continued. His voice was so very soft now, as though he was speaking to a child_… I can make it different._ As he said this, the gold shifted in his hand, changing shapes. The serrated edge disappeared and the simple bangle-like shape thinned and curved into pretty vines and flowers.

In response, she bowed her head, frowning. The fact that her power frightened others saddened her, but she saw no way with which it could be averted. It was in human's nature to fear things they had no knowledge of. The fear of the unknown was deep in their blood, in their bones. But here, now, there was something she could do.

She turned up, smiling tentatively at Mr. Poker Face.

"No" She said and saw the slightest tightening of his jaws. If she so much as blinked… or if she didn't have years of cumulated experience in dealing with taciturn dog demons, she would have missed it. She lifted her wrist invitingly as she eyed their intertwined hands.

She could feel the faint thrum of magic and, while it was no no doubt a different type of what she was used to, there was enough similarity for her to work with. So she gathered herself, reached out… and passed through the weird doodle… into Mr. Poker Face.

As she thought, the wariness, the suspicion, the skepticism was there. So was hate, bitterness, a lust for violence, jealousy, greed, wrath, guilt, pride. They fluttered around her like knives in the dark, but she slipped past them. These were the crust, the thorny outer layer that enveloped every single human being. She touched upon the core then and there she found other things.

Devotion. Loyalty. Patience. An absolutely indomitable will to protect those he held dear. Perseverance. A thirst for knowledge.

...Love...

In the darkness of his heart, they shone like the moon and the stars... and for the briefest moment she saw the flashing images of a woman with the gentlest of smiles and little children who resembled Mr. Poker Face too much to simply be acquaintances or children of his relatives.

Then all of a sudden she was sprawled out and pinned to the floor. The table upended, the chairs toppled, the ink dish clattered noisily next to her head and the spatters of ink sprinkled the floor and her face. Her arm twisted painfully, almost breaking in his grip, and there was a hand around her throat, squeezing, choking.

She stayed perfectly calm as she looked up into Satoosa's murderous visage. The first time ever he showed such clear emotion in her presence. Her hand where the doodle was drawn on was trapped tight in his grip. She reached out for a second time, but this time, as she slipped past the Fuin, she grasped hold of what was on the other side and pulled.

The magic of these people was strange. When it was under Mr. Poker Face's control, it functioned differently. She might be able to turn and steer it, but in her hands, it transferred something different. Feelings, sensations, emotions insteads of words, dialogue, concepts.

But it was all she needed.

She drew him in, trapped him. She opened herself. She had faced great warriors and demon lords alike and not cowered in the face of their might. She had faced them standing and had not lost herself in the process. She had long since past the fear of mortal pains and she had no shame in the nakedness of her heart.

The first thing she showed him was that she knew. She knew of their fear, of their desire, of their intention, and of what the bracelet meant.

The grip around her throat tightened, squeezed. She gasped, feeling the air being forced out of her. Mr. Poker Face's eyes above her were pinpricks of black and they burned with provoked fear, rage, and loathing.

But she didn't relent. This pain was but an old friend.

"It's… alright, Satoosa-san." She said weakly in her own language, gasping wetly in between the words. The magic she commandeered transferred the emotions - understanding, sympathy, acceptance - across. They were wordless but understood all the same. "I do not… mind." She can see dark spots appearing in her vision and she knew the pain was forcing tears from her eyes. "I… understand. It's alright. It's… not your fault. I know… you are scared."

A quiet but vast compassion ingrained in her since birth and further strengthened with the years.

"I will… wear the bracelet… if it sets your heart at ease." She said through the pain-filled haze, trusting fully that the revised Fuin was translating her will across the language barrier. She showed him her willingness and her desire to help the people then but the grip on her throat still did not loosen. He was growling something through gritted teeth but the Fuin was no longer translating from his end.

She blinked, realizing finally that he was perfectly capable and fully intending on killing her right there. The thought filled her with a deep sadness. She wanted to live, but she was no longer afraid of death. She did not fight even once. Her arms lie pinned and limp under his weight. She may harbor the full power of the Shikon in her soul but her body was just as frail as any young mortal woman. Even if she were to fight, against someone like him, someone who seemed to have been condensed from iron, whose hardness was carved right into his eyes, his face, and who wore the lingering scent of old blood and steel like his own skin, it would probably be futile anyway.

She reached out for a third time then, drew him in even deeper and immersed him with something else, her gratitude. Raw and honest and unfiltered and tinged with the shame of the realization of her own momentary selfishness.

"Thank you…" She whispered, too weak now for anything louder, but this close and with the Fuin still going strong, he heard anyway. "... for taking me in. Thank you… for giving me a home. Thank you… for feeding me." She smiled brightly through the tears and the pain and the sadness, looking him in the eye without fear or remorse. "Thank you… for accompanying me. Thank you… for giving me a chance. Thank you… for letting me help."

Her breath was quickly becoming painful and the darkness started creeping up in her slowly blurring vision.

"Thank you. Thank you… for having me."

She swam, floated in a haze, tethering precariously upon the ledge of an endless abyss, feeling the pressure slowly pulling her over. Then all of a sudden it ceased and an incredible weight was lifted from her as the hand on her throat disappeared.

It took her six minutes to regain her breath, two more for her vision to return, and another full five minutes for the strength to start seeping back into her limbs. When she could finally turn her head around, she saw him leaning against the wall looking down at her.

He was shaking badly and he had his left arm holding his right as if he was injured. His face was pale, bloodless. The blankness he wore for the entirety of their 'conversation' was gone, shattered, and in their absence she saw pure, unmasked, and unadulterated shock.

* * *

**End Chapter 3**

* * *

1\. Don't jump to conclusion. I can't repeat this enough. Already I have a couple people accusing me of stuffs which… are kinda hilarious. To anyone who know my writing, it is never simple and things are never as they first appear with me.

2\. The Kazekage's name in this chapter - Satoosa - is as close as it gets to a canon name. There have been several discussions and debates on the internet regarding his name when Naruto fans found out that in the Naruto trading card game he was given a non-canon name: Satoosa or Sasoosa. This turned out to be a combination of misprinting and mislabeling as Satoosa here is actually the Japanese Sato-Osa which literally means Village Head and is actually the rank/type of his card rather than his name (it was printed in the place of his name or next to it though, which is where the confusion stemmed from). I was searching for inspiration of a name for him, happened upon this, and thought 'Well, why not? It does sound pretty ok and there's a story behind it. That's already better than my other options'. If you google satoosa kazekage, his cards will turn up in the image section.

As for the pronunciation of Satoosa in this chapter/story, it can either be pronounced Sato-Ohsa or Satoooosa. I'm good with both.

3\. I really like writing the interactions between the Kazekage and Kagome in this chapter. A lot of nuances and subtexts, a lot of subtle, precise writing. The things I like to play with most as a writer. The characterization of both characters are also something that need a lot of work, attention, and delicate their interactions you can clearly see the people they are. Do let me know what you think of their interactions! Also, what do you think of the 'end' and 'near the end' of this chapter? For a few readers, it will be too much I think. But then again, I have never shied away from the extremes in my writing. What do you think of Kagome in this chapter? And what do you think of the 4th Kazekage in this chapter?

4\. I'm a bit surprised at some reader's reservation of the 4th Kazekage. Well.. not really surprised but, I have always thought he was underrepresented in the original series. Fans tend to dismiss him as an abusive, neglectful father who wasn't worth squat in terms of combat because he was killed by Orochimaru. I guess people are prone to simple, one-dimensional thinking when it comes to frontier characters who don't get much screentime and not even a name like him. Me personally I was intrigued when I was first read about him. My instincts as a writer told me that there was more to this character and in the hands of a good writer, he will evolve into a multi-layered, complex characters… the way people (parents) are in real life. I was proven correct when he was resurrected in the ninja war arc (Zombie Kage section). He was not actually without love for his children, Gaara specifically, as fans first thought he was. He loved them but he was also a leader of a military village and perfectly human when it comes to failing things like parenting (I guess for younger readers this will not be easily comprehended, but my writing tends to be for the more mature crowd for the simple reason that I'm… well… not actually that young. And… not-young people understand very deeply how easy it is to screw up at being good parents).

Another thing I like about writing fanfiction: the ability to play and develop characters with lots of latent potential but came and went without fanfare in canon for the simple reason that the pages are limited.

5\. I got lots of guesses in the romance aspect of the story. Well, none of them are a hundred percent correct I can tell you that (hahahahahahahahahahahahaha). The answer is so close yet so far and so many of you just don't realize that it's dangling right in front of your face (I'm a big tease I know. My beta complained to me about that. Didn't you Michelle? I really tickled your sensitivities and romantic sensibilities with that 5K thing huh? Also, if anyone can guess what 5K means I will share the rough draft with that person and honestly answer 3 of their questions. No teasing. No lying to preserve the story. No hinting. No manipulating words to make you assume wrongly. Not only the rough draft of From the Garden of Gods but any story in my ff account. Any of them! Honest to god!)


	4. Chapter 4: Sugar and Secrets

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Beta: Michelle T.

**Chapter 4:**** Sugar and Secrets**

* * *

He left her shivering on the floor, in her own sweat and tears, closed the door behind him and didn't look back.

A couple more minutes, during which her breath grew less and less painful and the pressure lightened from her chest, the door opened again and in walked two women. They walked around her, looked at each other without saying a word, then one knelt down next to her head and touched Kagome's battered neck. Her touch was soft, tentative, but it still hurt. She moaned a little and the touch let up.

Then the next thing she knew she was held up in strong—but definitely feminine—arms and carried out of the room. Past the door, she thought she saw vague figures in the corner of her eyes but she couldn't be sure.

They moved in the shadows, out of sight, leaping from places to places with the agility of jungle cats, and even while they were jumping about—travelling significant distance in the shade of the village buildings—not once did their rocky movements disturb Kagome in any way. These warrior women reminded her of Sango.

A couple more minutes then they stopped. Their destination was, much to Kagome's surprise, a bathhouse of all thing.

Well, not really a bathhouse proper. It was nowhere near as big as the ones she used to frequent for once. There was no shallow pool, only pots and bowls of various sizes and two off-white clay tubs in the middle. Only then did Kagome remember she hadn't once washed herself since coming to this world. Not out of choice but rather out of a complete lack of water to begin with. In a desert nation, only the rich had enough water for anything other than was absolutely vital for everyday life and she had been spending the few last months with the poorest of the village.

There were layers and layers of accumulated grime and dirt on her skin and if it weren't for the sterile environment of the desert and the daily scotching of the sun, she probably would have stank to high heaven by now.

There was a flurry of movements and suddenly she was naked and gently lowered into the half-filled tub where the two warrior women proceeded to give her the fastest and probably most water conserving washing in her life. They wiped her down with wet towels, gingerly inching around the golden bracelet that clasped her right wrist in a vice-like embrace, and rinsed her hair - coarse with several months worth of sand grain and filth on them - with a single bucket of water. They brushed her teeth, brushed her hair and cut off the split ends with weird knife things when they were at it, put some salve on her tender throat and bandaged it up, rubbed her blistering, dry skin moist with ointment. Then she was taken out, fluffed down in fuzzy white towels, set on her feet and came away squeaky clean and smelling faintly of tundra cotton.

All of this was done within a short five minutes, with sharp, precise and almost frantic but amazingly well coordinated movements of their arms and hands, and once they were done they regarded her with a shared look, as if checking if the end result of their labor met with the standard of… whoever made them do this. Probably that grouchy Mr. Shadow of the Wind Satoosa.

During all of this five minute express washing experience, Kagome said not a word. Not the first time she had been brought through a mildly bewildering washing experience, only this time even if she wanted to protest (Which she didn't. The grime really was driving her up the wall), she had no words with which to voice her complaint.

One of the warrior women, this one wearing a dark veil that hid half her face, brought a mirror and put it right in front of her and in its reflection, wavering in the weak sunlight that streamed through little wind holes in the roof and the sides of the bathhouse, Kagome saw herself.

For a moment, she couldn't recognize the girl standing naked in the low light right in front of her. The face, wan with hardship long since past but could never be forgotten, and while the features were smooth and plump with youth there was an underset of a bottomless melancholy. The body, edged and raw with months going without the proper nutrition, brown and brittle with the sun and the wind, seemed sanded down by the desert itself. The neck, bruised and painted in blots of red and purple from Satoosa's grip. The bandages hid most but in the fraying edges they could still be seen.

The golden bracelet glinted in its place on her wrist. It was breathtaking with its delicately looping vines and blossoms but it also felt cold and heavy and rife with dark promises but she was long since caring what such promises meant.

Kagome put a hand on the girl in the mirror's face and said - "Smile" - and watched her managed something almost half hearted - "You must live. So smile"

They took away the mirror and wrapped her in clean, white linen, the design of the clothes - simple but clearly of fine quality shirt, skirt, shaw and coat - reminiscent of Sengoku Jidai fashion if a little looser.

"Miko-san…" The warrior women called her, then spoke to her in low, soft murmurs as if reassuring a child. They led her out of the bathhouse, carried her in their arms and took off in their gazelle-like leaping in the shadow of the village.

The second destination was a building carved out from the jutting edge of the mountain itself. It stood, head in the sun and feet deep in the depth of its own shadow. The gigantic door gaped open in waiting and something told her that this was the final destination for the day.

A group of people came out to greet them. Two… bald-headed monks… escorted by a squad of the warrioress' male counterparts. A couple women dressed in modest sandy colored garb trailed behind, peering at her with eyes half curious half reverent.

Gently, the duo deposited her in front of the waiting retinue and with a soft nudge, pushed her towards them. She got what they were trying to say immediately without their needing to say another word. Months living without proper communication with another human, the incident with Satoosa excluded, had conditioned her for languages of the unspoken kind. She gave a good long look at the building in front of her.

Austere, as the desert in which it made its home in, and with an air that said this was no mere abode of someone of high status, if the Bodhisattva-like statues she could see past the waiting doorway and the monk presence were anything to go by. This was a temple and by the elaborately gilded twin statues guarding the doorway, not one of any small importance either.

Fitting, considering that she had made sure she was known as a priestess. She supposed this was what Satoosa meant when he said she would be 'taken care of'.

"Is this to be my new home?" She asked no one in particular. One of the monks said something in reply, making a beckoning gesture. She smiled at him, happy at the welcoming motion. "I shall not deny anything that is given to me in good faith."

She crossed the stretch of empty, dusty street in between in steps. When she was almost to the other side, a sound, choked, barely audible and somehow filled with regret stopped her in her track. Looking back behind her shoulder, she saw one of the two warrior women who had brought her here had double down, her hands clutching something tightly to her chest, then, under Kagome's gaze, she opened them, revealing tiny blue seeds in her palms. Her eyes begged, but the eyes of her comrades turned cold and hard and unforgiving.

Someone said something in harsh, cutting tones, but the woman was wreathed in a deep red pain that only she could see. Unlike Satoosa, Kagome didn't need to reach out to read her heart. It was open and the strength of its grief did not whisper but scream in tones of silence. It reached out to her, visceral and almost blinding, the kind of manic, hysterical pain that could only come after years of being repressed, simmering underneath the surface of normality, simmering to the point of boiling, overflowing, bursting forth from underneath in violent ruptures once it found its outlet.

She saw flashes of a desert gravesite, blue flowers in a cracked vase on the table, a child waiting forlornly in an empty room in the warrior woman's mind, looking out the window, forever looking out the empty window, waiting, waiting, waiting for someone to come back and fill the emptiness in the frame. The flowers bloomed blue, bloomed green, bloomed red, bloomed yellow and wilted in the blistering desert sun, in the withering desert night wind, but the window frame was ever empty. _Why didn't he come back? Where was he? Did he leave forever?_

Without preamble and against the wishes of the harsh calls on her sides, Kagome backtracked two steps, held out one hand in the air. The sheer strength of the warrioress' desire beckoned her, called to her to fulfill her purpose. The disembodied Shikon jewel that now beat in the place of her human heart pulsed, glowed, breathed and awakened. The seeds in the warrioress' hands came to life, unfurled, blooming a brilliant blue before her wide, disbelieving eyes and open mouth.

There was a stunned silence to the clearing and its occupants now.

" Ariga..." The warrioress said something, gasping through the tears that came welling from her eyes. The depth of her gratitude bled into her words and carried her will past the barrier of language.

Kagome had just enough time to smile encouragingly in return before she herself was whisked inside the temple and the door slammed close.

* * *

"What happened in there?" Said Chiyo to the back of her village Kage. He was still trembling but the quivers of his frame so subtle and well hidden that only the most observant of eyes could see. A miniscule motion to the side of his jaws was the only indication that he had heard her.

"Yondaime." She pushed, having witnessed the strange turns of events that transpired in the sealing room, between the Kazekage and the girl, and the her being subsequently carted off to the Sand Temple. "I've never seen you this shaken before. Not after the Third War." She said. "What did that girl do to you?"

A sudden stillness came over him and very slowly, he turned around to face her.

"Nothing." He said. "Absolutely nothing."

"Lying is unbecoming of you, Kazekage-sama." She admonished. "You lost control. We have both established that the girl's power is too useful for us to look the other way. Even if she were dangerous… especially if she were dangerous, she must be kept alive and her power harvested and bred into our bloodline for the sake of Sunagakure, until her blood itself becomes our legacy, ours to own and use. You yourself were adamant of this. Even had she… somehow… killed you back there, it would still be my duty as an elder of this village to see to it that her power be harvested for the good of us all. Whatever she did to you could not have been enough of a threat for you to attempt to kill her… in cold blood. And you fully intended to kill her. I could feel your intention all the way through the seals... and your chakra. Not once were you in mortal danger. So tell me, what did a little slip of a civilian girl managed to do, in the face of one among the greatest warriors of our village, that unhinged you so?"

When he still didn't reply, she coldly stated. "We… no… you… planned from the very beginning that you yourself would personally see to her integration to our village. The Kazekage himself would act as her sole protector, teacher and caregiver in order to foster her eventual dependency… and hopefully, loyalty… to the bloodline of the Kazekage, and subsequently to our village… similar to Kumogakure's handling of their Biiju. Eventually, if the molding of Kagome Higurashi goes well, it would also fall to the bloodline of our Kazekage to… take things to the next step. Yet…"

He turned around and faced her then, as if summoned by the accusation that was to come from Chiyo.

"Yet…" She continued. "... here you stand before me, and you cannot even bear to talk of her influence on you. The little harmless civilian girl half your age… whom you are supposed to enthrall to our allegiance."

There was a ponderous silence this time, the feel like air being pushed inside a small space, pressurized until it gained thickness. At which point it stopped, and Satoosa of the Desert brought his hands to his face, wiped it, and the mask on it came crumbling away under his fingers.

"She stepped into my mind." He said softly.

"Like the Konohan Yamanaka mind technique?"

"No..." He paused for a single second. "She could not read my thoughts…" He did not have to elaborate. His and Chiyo's background as jutsu R&amp;D specialists enabled them to discuss the intricacies of foreign bloodline techniques on a far higher plateau than normal shinobis of the same rank or power. In this case, the unsaid part was the sole focus of the Yamanaka mind technique. Designed and developed as a recon and info gathering technique set, the Yamanaka arts concerned itself solely with mental domination and information extraction. "... she could not influence me." Or else the print of his hand would not even find itself anywhere near her throat.

"... But?" Chiyo prodded when he stopped there.

He drew out, stalling. "... empathy…" Was the only explanation he offered. "... mutual... empathy…"

"... I see…" Said Chiyo, a glint of interest in her gnarled old face. She had enough tact not to prod on what exactly he felt from his end, but her curiosity was apparent. He can well relate. Empathic powers were something of an incomplete puzzle in the ninja world. Open to manipulation, but absolutely cannot be faked, its potentials were… intriguing but the path of development limited and its uses in ninja warfare even more so. What it could potentially do in reconnaissance and infiltration were already done and quite possibly done much better by techniques similar to the Konohan Yamanaka clan. There were… nascent instances of such abilities budding in a handful of individuals within the ninja world, but without fail, their talents were routed to other more practical alternatives, petered out altogether, or outshone and made obsolete by other subsets of bloodlimit. Either way, he needed not give any further explanation than the ones Chiyo had already concluded herself.

Shinobis were, as a rule, intensely private individual, especially so when it came to personal matters, and there were nothing more personal than their state of emotions. To touch upon that, to force herself within another's world, and then to plummet him into her own.

Offense of the highest kind.

"... This changes nothing. We proceed as planned." He said, softly, because even his best Kazekage voice wouldn't faze the old poison master, but there was no room for argument in his voice.

Chiyo merely gave him a look, as if voicing her unspoken questions. Even the forceful invasion of his emotional state should not have provoked such brutal retaliation, the explanation he gave was a non explanation, designed to hide the truth beneath it. They might be allies now, but in the past wars had transpired between the Leaf and the Sand. Sabaku no Satoosa was no stranger to mental invasions, if he were, he wouldn't have made it past the third great ninja war. So the girl's faux pas could not have been what set him off. It must be something else. Something that transpired within that short lived state of mutual empathy. But eventually, she simply clicked her tongue reproachfully at him.

"I should hope so." Before turning her attention to the decrees he had laid out on the table. Plans to harvest Mumei… Kagome Higurashi's powers. Village policies and decrees that would shape the very direction of the village and their everyday function to accommodate a single new presence among their midst. Never before in the history of Sunagakure had so many changes been prepared for the sake of one single person.

He followed the line of her sight, and despite himself, could not stop the thought that this was but a mere premonition of the future. The words and laws that he himself scripted and authorized. The great upheavals ahead. It might have been a residue of the girl's touch in his mind and the beguiling nature of her own power but he could not help but think that they were at a historical crossroad past which there would be no return.

"We are Suna nins." Chiyo smiled wrily, having harbored the same thoughts. "We make the most of what the desert gives us and prosper."

Kagome Higurashi had no recorded past beyond her sudden appearance at the village gate. The desert brought her to them. A gift. An offering.

"So let it begins."

* * *

Her first morning in the temple, they came over to take her to the washhouse again, then to eat, then to have her photos taken and papers straightened out. Someone braught more clothes over and the women tittered about her as they wrapped and dressed her in soft, silky shirts and dresses. Before the sun had fully risen from the horizon, her pictures were stamped and laminated on what must be the Sand people's equivalent to the ID card. Very formally and in bold letters, it stated Kagome Higurashi - Miko, or so said one of the veiled guards. And while all this happened, she was attended to by no less than three other people.

Mr. Poker Face really wasn't joking when he said they would take care of her.

Mid-morning, they brought the seeds over by the barrels. In the chants of the monk, Kagome set to work.

It was May. She grew soybeans and corns.

In the night, Mr. Poker Face came over. When he walked into the cavernous room she had come to understand was 'given to her', all the others, the guards with the masked faces, the lady caretakers with the full veils, cleared out. He spent maybe a minute under the threshold studying her in silence, then in slow ponderous strides, he walked in.

When he was three steps away, Kagome blurted out.

"I... sorry." She just learned the new word too.

He stilled for a moment, before holding out a hand to her. The now very familiar translating Fuin glittered black on his palm. She took his hand without hesitation.

'Don't ever do that again.' He said in the slow, stern voice of her father, dredged from far-off memories when he was still with the family. She shook her head violently as if saying 'No, I won't.'

There was a short pause thereafter during which Kagome expected Mr. Poker Face to at least start asking how she was settling in and other polite questions of the same ilk, but when he finally spoke, his statement was curt and to the point, and more an order than an offer.

'I shall teach you our language. Pay attention.' Then he proceeded to do just that.

When the gruelling first lesson was over, he led her out of her room, past winding hallways and many layers of doors and chanting monks until they ended up in the back of the temple which opened up into a gigantic cave deep into the side of the mountain. A skywell filled the room with moonlight. He made a vague gesture at the tilled earth, the bags filled with seeds propped against the wall, and at the cave itself.

"Yours." He said in the Sand people language. 'Do with it as you like.' Then with the voice of one of her friends.

* * *

June came in her second week at the temple. She grew starchy wheat and sweet, succulent mandarins with the seeds they gave her, then grew sugar canes from a single piece of dried up, dead stalk in her little garden, which she styled from the cave 'given to her' by Mr. Poker Face.

That one was a surprise. Like the first seed she found in the trash heaps, here was another unexpected find. Sugarcanes were infamously water intensive in their growth. Not a crop suitable to life in arid areas so the fact the a little dead piece of it could be found here, among the odd, dead pieces of other unknown plants was something of a small miracle in itself.

When the shoots crowded out a good part of the cave, grew past her head and started sprouting flower stalks, she broke up pieces of it and, carrying her sugary bundle in both hands, headed to the cave mouth where her veiled guards stood in wait.

"I would… like to go out." She said in careful enunciation. "I want… to give these.. to… I want to go out."

There was a moment of hesitation when her guards exchanged silent looks.

"Please…" She added.

One of them appeared to cave and nodded mutely at her before leading the way out. His companion lingered behind to take up the rest of the sugar canes before following.

The streets of the sand village were as sun-filled and dusty as ever, but this time around, it seemed a little livelier, and the people that walked its length more open to smiles she would like to think. The air smelled of spice. The wild wind ran through her hair and followed her as she meandered her way through the village. She walked in small, hurried steps, somehow feeling the nostalgia and nervousness welling up in her. She thought of the orphan children and the old, homeless people that filled more than half the center. Sweet things were naturally a rare luxury for the desert-bound. She could only imagine the look on their faces when she presented her come-home gifts to them.

When the Sand village Center for the Homeless appeared at the end of the street, someone cried out.

"Miko?"

She stopped and turned. At the end of her gaze milled about ropes of people at the beginning of a bazaar alley, and within the intertwining twists and turns of these ropes, a strange woman in plain clothes stared at her with wide eyes. When they made eye contact, it seemed the woman recognized something because immediately, she cried out again.

"... Miko-sama…" This time, her voice caught the attention of those around her and at once Kagome found herself the target of countless eyes. The crowd stilled, stirred, then in small, scattered bursts, people called out.

".. Miko-sama?" … Miko?" "Honto ni?" "... Miko-san…" "... Miko-sama…" Some people fell down, some cried out in tears, some started to take small steps towards her, eyes disbelieving and with the barest hint of gratitude. Her guards stiffened and took positions in front and behind her, but Kagome herself was not worried at all. She could feel no ill will from the crowd, and now that she put her full attention to them, saw more than a few familiar faces among the sea of strangers, so true to herself and much to the chagrin of her caretakers, she took off towards them, smiling.

* * *

"... She did what?"

Sabaku no Satoosa stilled, reclined back into his chair, brought a hand to his temple where the start of yet another bout of migraine was nesting.

" Miko Kagome Higurashi grew a small forest of sugarcanes in the East end of the village, right on the doorstep of our House for the Needy. The majority of this forest was subsequently stripped away and… consumed onsite... by nearby citizens."

"...Which somehow consisted of nearly half our population? I could see the gathering from my Kage tower."

"Our Eastern districts are notoriously more crowded than other districts as you well know." Said the surveillance nin. "A good part of their new population are also… past members of the Homeless Center. In so far, they have been the ones impacted the most by the influx of provisions and jobs created by Miko Kagome Higurashi's power and it seemed, quite a few of them remembered her from her time at the Center. They were the most… vocal… in welcoming her back to the Center."

"... I trust that she has been brought back to Saruka Temple?"

"Miko-san has been forcibly removed from the East end district and brought back to her assigned abode." The surveillance nin replied automatically, then added. "The members of civic council are concerned on her sudden and unplanned public appearance. They are worried this will confirm as well as debunk many rumors we have started regarding her existence and the extent of her power to… unwanted individuals and may lead to negative impact on the inter-village market."

"It will not. We have prepared for this. And in the case that other villages became aware of her existence, we will progress with our own plans. They could hardly argue with the good we have done on the market itself." He said in return. " As for the girl, I will speak to her."

* * *

The sight that greeted him at the doorway to the Miko's room was of the girl herself sprawling haphazardly on top a thick fur blanket as she chattered incessantly away in broken Ryukyuan to her handmaidens. The conversations were one-sided. Her caretakers were forbidden from ever speaking to her. They weren't, however, required to turn deaf ears on her. Odds and ends lay about the room in clutters. Things that weren't in the safe list. Gifts from her admirers he guessed. He would need to talk to the captain in charge. She propped herself up on both hands when she spotted him at the door and cried out happily.

"Shadow of the Wind Satoosa-san!" Then an inordinately pleased look spread across her face and she held up a hand at him. "Wait." Her nose scrunched up as she attempted to recall something, then smoothed out as she grasped hold of it. "Welcome home, darling!" She twittered, looking mighty proud of herself.

The handmaidens stiffened at the girl's exclamation, eyeing him nervously. He narrowed his eyes at them, and without needing a word out of him, they cleared out with record speed.

"Who taught you that?"

"People!" was her way too perky reply.

He took her hand, palm up. 'Do not use it. It is inappropriate.'

"Why not? Many people… called me… today… this way."

'It is inappropriate to me.'

She eyed him sceptically, but didn't push. "You should… happy? I am good, hard working student. I learn… out of class."

'Ignorance and zealotry do not make for a productive combination.'

She pursed her lips at him but did not rebuke.

'You went out today.' It was not a question.

"I did." The girl deigned to answer anyway. "It was…" She floundered around for a descriptive word but couldn't find one because he hadn't yet taught her any of such kind. "... sugar… It was sugar." She held up a sugarcane for extra effect.

The word she was looking for was 'fun'. But after that incident today, he was not in a particularly giving mood.

'You should not have. You could have put yourself in danger. This village is not a peaceful one.'

"No one wants… wanted… to harm me." She said, frowning. "No sword. No kunai. No puppet. No shuriken. No poison darts. No iron war fan." She listed, using the words he taught her on their second lesson.

'You could not have known.'

"I do know."

'You don't.'

"Satoosa-san need… needs… more sugar in life." She huffed, then announced, holding the freshly cut sugarcane at him in offer. He rose an eyebrow at the offending item.

'Pay attention ignorant child.' He said, squeezing her hand. Golden tendrils floated from the bracelet on her wrist, formed cold and delicate vines around her throat and turned her chin until she was looking him in the eye.

'I will teach, and you will learn.'

* * *

1/ I had fun writing this

2/ I wrote this right smack dab during my editorial cycle. My editor in Chief is not going to be happy with me if he finds out.

3/ What do you think is the real reason the 4th Kazekage flipped out last chapter? I really had fun leaving that part up to reader's interpretation. Last chapter alone I received many feedbacks on the last scene (choking) of the chapter and the strange thing is: each of the people who read the part had a different interpretation of the scene. Not one of them was like the other though there are a few main similarities. Some interpreted the scene, the symbolics in it and the subtexts underneath positively, some negatively, and some neutral but as a foreshadowing of Kagome's relationship with the Kazekage lineage and Sunagakure. That makes me happy as a writer because only good writing can evoke that kind of varied emotional and mental reactions from people. As to my own interpretation of it and how it will play out in the main storyline, I guess we will all have to wait and see.

4/ Next chapter: Kagome's impact on Suna economy specifically and the world economy as a consequence. Also, Gaara! They meet for the first time.

5/ It seems no one guessed correctly what the 5K thing is. Haha, to be honest I did not expect that much response. It was just a throwaway comment that I felt was safe since this fic is one among my lesser popular ones. My more popular stories, I wouldn't have dared to make that kind of comment for fear of actually having to own up to my promises. I will own up, but that probably will be very painful to me.

6/ Popular answers as to what the 5K thing is include: the 5th Kazekage Gaara, 5000 words of lemon writing, or the Gaara/Kagome pairing. Well, people really do veer towards the pervy side of things don't they?

7/ Anyhow, I guess I should answer what the 5K thing is. You see, it is… the result of a mathematical equation. Here, lemme show you:

**4**th **K**azkage + **K**agome = **5K**

See. Simple. It basically is a term I made up to tease my beta, who has taken quite fondly to the pairing. I told her it sounded like the chemical name of a compound, especially if it morphs into a triangle. Our convo started out as discussion and planning on the romantic aspect of the story. I rarely plan ahead in terms of story romance since I'm a staunch believer of characterization and plot before romance. This is something of a special case though because I have always seen Kagome's boundless ability to love and be loved in return as a focal point to her character, and leaving such a large part of the main char unplanned is not something to be done. Eventually we stumbled into who (or what) should be the other end of this romance, and that conversation… quickly devolved into a crack fest during which we sprang crack pairings at each other and came up with ways to make it work. Aside from the 5K thing, we also have:

a/ The G5K thing (see! Now it definitely sounds like something out of chem class). I will leave to your imagination what it is.

b/ Ebizo (Chiyo's brother). Because love knows no age!

c/ Temari. It sure does not know gender either!

d/ Sasori of the Red Sand. Kagome will be loved and still stay chaste because he basically is a Ken doll… unless he makes himself otherwise in which case he pretty much becomes a Babeland private product.

e/ Deidara. He went to blow up Suna and met her. Love on the background of mass murder and explosion. What is more romantic a first date for Deidara than that?

f/ The 3rd Kazekage (Sasori's puppet). How is this going to work? Simple, the Shikon's power can easily revive even the dead or untangle soul and let them move on. Kagome tags along on the Save Gaara mission, saw the guy's soul lingering around the puppet, takes pity on him and untangle his soul, hoping for him to move on… except he hangs around instead in gratitude and to find a way to repay. Ghost ship ahoy!

g/ And many more mind-breaking crack ships.

It was for the lulz.

8/ On the other hand though, this is not in any way confirmation that Gaara's dad x Kagome (I laughed out loud any time I refer to him as such. It sounded… naughty) really is the romantic aspect/couple of this story. At least not entirely any way.

***Troll Face***


	5. Chapter 5: Blooming Land

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Beta: Michelle T.

**Chapter 5:**** Blooming Land and Less than Pleased Merchants**

* * *

It took another two weeks for the councils, the ninja and the civic ones, to agree on their shared observations of the Miko Kagome Higurashi. By then, the village was already changing. Nothing by much of course, not right away. The first few small ripples were only the sudden influx of the village crisis food reserves and the overnight inflation of village-sponsored rice stamp programs. State controlled contingency measures were always a must for a military village such as theirs, still, there was enough of a gap for the private industrial sector to lag behind in the face of the Miko's game changing power.

A month in and she was producing more than their entire import values for a year. Projected numbers said she would outstrip that by three times given another month and a half. The storerooms started filling up. Vagabond centers in the Eastern and Southern wards ran out of place to put all that food. The homeless themselves are happy and well-fed and by his orders, put to good work now that they were effectively on state payroll. The village R&amp;D had more samples of her harvest than they knew what to do with. Their lab was starting to look like a Ta no Kuni farm barn the last time he visited them.

It was time. He started talking of village wide subsidies and moving labour from food production and import protocol to other parts of the economy. Previously the prices of food, the most basic of commodities, had always been high. Bringing it low, so low it was as good as free, meant a tremendous boost to the economy. People would have more money to spend elsewhere. Less cost on the village coffer, cheaper ninja services in the long run, and then there was the free labour from the once vagabonds that were now effectively on the village's payroll.

As for the labour, they had always been short on hand for so many things. Irrigation, mining and deep ground resource survey, expansion, reforestation of the village perimeter in an effort to keep the desert back, the creation of underground water tunnels as a backup water supply source, implementation of new energy generating systems. There were so many things to do… so many thing that they couldn't do when their population was tied down by food production, import, and the ridiculously high cost of living in the barren desert.

To be able to talk about such possibilities even when their village stood but a decade shy of a world war that had seen them come out in rags and tatters… it left him shaking in silent excitement. He could see, very slowly, life returning to his beloved village, the spark of promise, of power befitting of one among the Great Five budding.

Throughout all this, the girl herself didn't even lose a sweat. Her days had become a leisurely routine. Cultivation of new seeds in the morning. Tending of long-living food plants in the afternoon. Classes with him in the evening. The time in between she could use for herself. The temple in the first place didn't have a lot of space left in it and to sully a place so sacred to his people wasn't something that he would even consider so they created crash farm fields out of the Northern wasteland and every day, escorted her in secret routes to where the land was once barren. The fields had now taken over most of the higher wasteland plateau, growing green , verdant and rampant with new growths covering more and more of the desert land.

Here she grew trees and plants of all types. Rice paddies on the patchwork dirt steppes. They created irrigation tracts using a combination of Doton and Suiton and the ex-vagabond workers man the field day to day out of the Miko's swift visits. Corns, growing high and leafy and all but covered up the gray dirt and sand that made up the dead ground. The wheat field to the left was just as large. Then potatoes and soybeans and yams. The staple foods most nations couldn't do without but Suna had had to import since its beginning days.

They built a fenced garden and she grew orange trees in rows in the upper corner, apples in the lower, and pomegranates in the middle. They made a second garden and she grew culinary herbs and vegetables of all types. One day, on a whim, she grew flowers. A veritable hanging forest of blue, purple, pink and orange that overtook the hidden mountain cliffs in ropes and tangles of climbing vines. Nobody said no to her. Somebody later on informed him that the things she grew were called petunia, hyacinth, amethyst falls wisteria, and sweet summer love clematis.

He didn't even know what summer was like… The desert was in a constant and habitual burn, and if it weren't burning, then it was freezing. Such was life among the sand dunes. And as for sweet love… hah...

On the third month he stood on a high cliff and overlooked the fields. It was absolutely alien to him who had seen in its place cracked, dead land stretching to the horizon for all of his life till then. It was vast. No where near as great as the desert of course, but in its promise of the future, it seemed infinitely greater than it really was. He had been a child of the desert since he was born and while his missions and Kage duties had taken him out of the bound of the desert and into more fertile lands in the past, the sight of blooming earth was still something he hadn't prepared himself for.

Throughout all of this, no matter how hard they put her to work or how unreasonable the output demands they placed on her, the girl neither protested nor faltered, instead always taking to work with an easy smile on her face. She did not tire, did not run out of whatever fueled her miracles even while producing three times as much as a village could eat. And as for her power… these days the reports came back that she did not even need to touch them. The miko needed only walk along the paths throughout the fields. The plants, trees, fruits and flowers seemed to gain sustenance by her sheer presence alone.

For all intents and purpose, it seemed the power of her yet nameless Kekkai Genkai did not have a limit. They had not even managed to catalogue the end of its reach. From all that they had seen thus far, hers was a power as immeasurable as the fabled sea.

For that reason alone, he quietly feared her.

* * *

The complaints started first from the private sector. Food merchants and masters of the precious few trade routes that passed through Sunagakure who had previously held almost total control of the village food trade. Understandable since they had replaced a significant part of their income in a matter of weeks.

Still, he treated them gently, far gentler than he could have. He kept the girl's and the highland farm field existence from them. These vermins who preyed upon his people's weakness needed not know of Sunagakure's boon from the desert.

"... a new jutsu in development, Sahi-san. Merely. New jutsus are known for instability and strange developments. You have nothing to fear. Sunagakure will surely continue our mutually profitable partnership." He said, face not showing an ounce of his true thoughts. "Though, the senate members will most likely want a renegotiation on prices of import items that we can now produce ourselves. I am sure you will not mind."

They no longer needed the second rate imported food but to stop the in-flow so suddenly would send a definite signal to the other nations and their respective hidden villages. A signal that said Suna had found a new keystone to their village economy.

Too soon. They needed more time to prepare.

Before long there were voices from the senate and the advising council that called for export of the Miko's harvest. They had more food in store than they knew what to do with and the village could surely use another source of income.

He turned down those voices for the same reason. Too soon. Too risky. Opening their export gate right now may bring in a short live rush of income but would, in effect, advertise the Miko's existence to other villages. It would be as good as flaunting a treasure they could not, for now, fully protect. It would be a foolish and short-sighted course of actions.

He watched the process of his senate trying to turn the girl into a political commodity in silence… but not in inactivity. He well understood the hidden truth that his government was hardly of one voice as it tried to portray itself.

This was hardly the first time Suna had seen the appearance of a first generation Kekkai Genkai, but none before the Mikos had had such far reaching ramifications. Whereas other powers tended to stop as valuable military asset that might, keyword being might, hold vital strategic advantage in the right hand, the Miko's power, if utilized to its full potential, would change the entire landscape of Sunagakure.

The common people would love her, that much he had seen. But those in power who used to make money from what she now provided for free or those too attached to the status quo of an isolationist village with a fragile economy almost entirely dependant on handouts from the daimyo, those would want her gone.

It was for this reason that the full truth of the Miko's powers was still concealed even to members of the senate thanks to Chiyo's machinations behind the scene. Her very existence itself was an unconfirmed rumours beyond the wall of the village. It was but one more of the many rumours they had seeded pertaining to Sunagakure's sudden surge in agricultural production power. Soon, probably sooner than he would like, hands would reach out from the shadow to make a grab for the Miko.

He set about preparing to counter them.

* * *

The kunoichi were all hand picked by him over a matter of weeks. Anbu operatives and tokubetsu jounins made up their ranks. Sunagakure did not lack for competent female kunoichi but he had been out for a different sort. Young, preferably in their teens and early twenties, pale of skin and dark of hair. Majority of Suna population favored looks of tanned skin and lighter, sunburned hair, and to add to that they had to be especially trustworthy with backgrounds that excluded them from any possibilities of being sleeper agents from rival villages. In all of Suna he scrounged up a handful who adequately fulfilled the requirements.

Standing in the same room, they looked as though they might have been sisters of the same blood. If he were to put the girl in their midst, she would blend in as another grain in the sand dunes.

Perfect.

"Your purpose is to protect the Miko… at all cost." He stated without preambles. "Wear your clothes, your hair, your dresses, your face, and your manner as she does. Speak as she does. Move as she does. Blend in with her. If a foreigner were to look upon you I want for him or her to not be able to discern which is the true Miko. Protect the real one with your life. Do not trust anyone, not even I."

He replaced the girl's handmaidens with his carefully chosen group of Kunoichi.

* * *

Six months.

He sat in his chair, quiet and still, twiddling a kunai in one hand as yet another member of the House of Commons, the political counterpart to his ninja council, attempted to pound logic of the shallow and the self-interested into his skull.

"... It is for these reasons that we believe the Miko Kagome Higurashi must be set free." The man announced with aplomb, hands around a six foot long scroll bearing the shared manifesto of the merchant guild and a half of the House of Commons. A clique of his peers flanked him. "She is no kunoichi under your jurisdiction but a civilian, a mere minor, a child. By our own law, she should be taken care of as part of our orphan welfare program and seen to by the representatives of the House of Commons. But does that happen? No!"

He was getting quite passionate about his speech now. His scroll flew from one hand as he made wild gestures to illustrate his points. His sole audience, the Kazekage, on the other hand, wasn't at all interested in what he had to say. The kunai flew a little faster from nimble fingers to nimble fingers.

"Instead, for the last six months she has been put to work like a slave. Unpaid, unappreciated. She does not even have a work permit or any kind of social insurances, and of course, absolutely no form of formal education whatsoever. The fruits of her labour freely given away without her say-so. Why, if such were to happen to a civilian child, the public would not have tolerated this. I have here in my hands a list of respectable civilian families whose greatest pleasure will be to take care and provide for her until such a time comes that she feels she needs to set out among the world."

And on he went… He wasn't quite pointing fingers at his Kazekage for hiding the girl away for his own gains just yet. He had a bit more tact than that, as well as more survival instinct. But he was slowly gathering the bravado to get there. Satoosa could tell by the way his cohorts leaned forward, as taken as the man was by his own speech. Best put a stop to this. The kunai stopped cold in its track. He set it down on his desk with a crisp, curt clap.

"Madarame-san…" He stopped the representative at least, eyes going behind the man to set upon the receding sun on the horizon of his village. The twirling mixture of twilight colors, orange, red, and purple, made him think of the Miko in her temple, no doubt up to her usual shenanigans again. "... I am glad to receive your…" he gave a miniscule incline of his head at the people behind the man "... concerns regarding Miko Kagome Higurashi. Regardless of what the gossipers believe however, I do not keep the girl against her will in a secret dungeon under my private residence and do with her as I will. She is in no prison…"

"But we saw…" Madarame started, then quieted when he speared the little man with a pointed look.

"The Miko Kagome Higurashi, as she is a self proclaimed woman of faith, is staying with her fellow priests at our most sacred temple. I myself cannot see a more fitting place as her abode. If you believe a common house of civilian, regardless of how upright the owners are, is greater than that of our forefathers great temple, or that our most respectable priesthood are indeed harboring such despicable practice as slavery, you will have to take it up to the head priest and his staunchest followers…" who would not at all be happy to hear a philistine slandered and belittle their faith. Religions followed by shinobi and civilians alike in hidden villages are peculiar things. Ruled by and designed for those who made violence a living, such religions had different values and virtues. For some, having seen the worst that humanity could offer, they could be far more forgiving than normal religions. But for others, the depths of faith, of spiritual devotion required those who wielded death for daily living... could turn the act of worshipping to the extreme, the bloodthirsty Jashinism being a prime example.

The strain of Theravada Buddhism practiced in Sunagakure… well, Satoosa himself had seen nonbelievers exiled from the village for less. They weren't normally prone to extreme responses, but for shinobi, what passed for normal might be well in the excessive by the standard of non-shinobis.

Madarame seemed to get it because he suddenly shut his wide open mouth.

Satoosa did not stop there.

"As to her status, Miko Kagome Higurashi is registered as a ward of the state. She is protected by the state. While it is true that she is a minor, she is in no way being neglected or abused."

"But… her labour…see right here..."

"Please do not mistake her kindness and generosity for naivety." He bulldozed over the man's argument. "Or perhaps it was not a mistake you made, but a deliberate warping of the truth…"

They stiffened, with looks on their faces that resembled rats caught in iron cases.

"Kozu…" He called. The Anbu to his left dropped from his hiding spot and into the House of Common representative's full view. "... remind me again from which does Madarame-san make his fortune?"

"Processing of grain imports, Kazekage-sama. Madarame-san owns a third of the rice trade."

"I see… How surprising." He let the vindictiveness in his heart curled the edge of his mouth into a cutting smile. "And these esteemed guests of our office?" He made a vague gesture at the ones standing behind Madarame.

Kozu rattled off a report on the spot as he watched the faces of the representatives paled one by one. Operator of private trade routes. Owners of cotton farms in far off countries who made big money in Suna. Chief officer of import licensing office who might be running something else off the table. Bean and coffee morgul who … used to… own the market.

"Fascinating…" He drawled "I suppose it is only from the goodness of your heart that you beg to take care of she who has been putting free food on your table with one hand while taking coins from your pockets with the other."

He leveled a look at them.

"But that is neither here nor there. Forgive us shinobi for collecting anecdotal rumours on your most venerated persons. It is simply a part of our job." He softened his stance momentarily.

"This is a no doubt a time of change for our village. A trying time during which many a petty individuals will be seeding ill rumors about our lady of kindness and generosity. Therefore, I feel I must set the record straight for those who come to me with such concerns."

He smiled, baring teeth.

"The Miko Kagome Higurashi is of utmost importance to Sunagakure." He said this slowly, stressing the words as if speaking to children. "Her ability means much to the future progress of the village. Her relationship with the village is one of perfect symbiosis. She provides us with the harvest of her power and in turn the village protects her, nurtures her, sees to her specific needs. It is not unheard of for children of first generation kekkai genkai to be abused, neglected, or misunderstood. In times past, children of particularly strong or strange kekkai genkai have been killed by ignorants or by those who seek to use them with little regards to their welfare. With the village's protection however, the same will never happen to the Miko."

He looked at each of them.

"She is now a ward of the state and her guardian the officers assigned to watch over her. In the future, a family may be appointed as her official guardians until the time she reaches maturity. I certainly have no sway over what kind of family it will be, civilian… or shinobis… however…" He paused for a second. "... the responsibility of acting guardians over such important personage… is not to be taken lightly. If… during this time, harms were to come to her, the person whose power has been boosting our entire village, the person who has been putting food on the table of half of our civilian population and all of our shinobi population, who has single handedly reversed Sunagakure's less than stellar trading power on the international market…" his voice dropped low, cold, thin and edged with intent "... if such an event were to occur…"

Madarame and his ilks recoiled under the weight of his gaze.

"...retribution of equal proportions will be reaped."

* * *

**End chapter 5**

* * *

1\. I know I promised Gaara in this chapter but ecopolitical thoughts, planning and world building happened and if I really want to put Gaara in this chapter I will have to write another 5k words to get to the part where he finally meets '_that strange tickle that keeps pulling at his senses that turns out to be this daft civilian older girl who he is not quite sure what his mother feels about because she is suddenly cowering in a corner_' in secret and against his father's wishes. And she ends up giving him an apple and pat him on the head and shows him that he actually has **another **mother who really really loves him. He's not quite sure what to think about her either because while he likes the apple and the second mother he kind of want to call her out on her naivety and cowardice and complete lack of response on being used and lied to by his father.

…. kinda….

This chapter was initially named **Maiden and Chimera** (pretty sure you know who the title refers to) but because of these changes it has been renamed.

2\. If you are not into long private thoughts and ecopolitics, this chapter probably will read pretty dry to you (especially when compared to previous chapters). It is required though as part of the world building in long term (so bear with me). Next chapter we will have a bit more on the political structure of Sunagakure, the Kazekage's conversation with Kagome on what she wants out of life, him personally showing her the effect her power has on his village and people (in an attempt to build her bond with the village), why he's been keeping her cooped up in that cloister (for her own protection), a bit more on Kagome's circumstances and why and how she landed into the Naruto verse, and finally Gaara… kinda…. I'm not really sure yet (Am I really ever a hundred percent sure about anything? I'm too spontaneous for that I think, and like to screw with people's expectations too much)


	6. Chapter 6: Caldera and Oasis

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot. Also, in this chapter, there are a couple trace lines from Green Field by the Brother Four and Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes.

Beta: Michelle T.

**Chapter 6:**** Caldera and Oasis**

'_I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys._

_I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs._

_I will put in the desert the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive._

_I will set junipers in the wasteland, the fir and the cypress together.'_

-Isaiah 41:18,19 -

* * *

November rolled in through the gate of Sunagakure in long, billowing gusts of wind and would normally have brought with it, the dry coarse sand of the desert. But Kagome planted cedar and acacia in a half-moon shape just beyond the village gate. So when the winter wind flew to their gate, it left behind the sand and brought with it not the dry, dead scent of the desert but the crisp, effervescent aroma of fresh leaves, tree sap and newly sprung buds.

Unlike the short and soft-bark apple and orange trees that crowded the plateau at the back of the village, these were pure timber trees, with hard, full trunks, sturdy boughs, and thick, strong roots that dug deep into the earth where they burrowed and fostered life.

"We will plant the cedar and the acacia trees here," she said on that first day when they brought her on her request out the gate. It was among the first few complete sentences she could form and speak to a crowd of the Sand people. The words escaped from her soft but sure, buoyant on the excitement of creating something new, something good. The spot of earth where they stood was good too. Like the wasteland it was in, it was parched and cracked and held nothing but sand and rock and the scorching heat of a mid-day sun, but deep down below, in the cool well of the earth's bosom, Kagome felt a keen desire to be more. A tiny little thing, perhaps the imprint left over by something else that had passed this part of the land, but it was more than enough. She would draw out this wish and let it bloom.

From amidst a veritable grove made of bodyguards and escorts, she walked the curved crescent moon shape a good ninety yards from the village gate. Hung from her left hand was a basket full of the seeds they had given her. Small but hardy, and encased in smooth brown and yellow shells. With her other hand, she picked up each seed, held it in her hand as the heart of the seed called out to her, then let them fall to the earth where they unfurled, budded, rooted.

One by one, each step let fall a seed into the desiccated, dead earth and from there bore life.

It was slow and labored, hard work that took near a month to complete. The crescent moon itself stretched from one end of the wasteland beyond the village gate to the other. About the length of her old district quarter in Tokyo. Walking so slowly as to allow time for each seed, the march from one pointed end to the other took an entire week. But this first march only saw the cedar and the acacia grow from seeds to saplings. It would need more marches to see that the young sprigs growing into mature trees.

When 'Shadow of the Wind' Satoosa-san clasped her hand and asked her one day "Why so slow? You could have grown them all in one go." He said this in his own voice, in the language of the Sand people, not the voices of her memories. He hadn't needed to for a while now, not with simple queries of this kind. The clasping hands, she supposed it was out of pure habit.

"These are… old trees… long… long live. Not like apples and oranges… or vegetables and flowers. They need time. Need strength," Kagome answered in her halting Sand people language.

Looking at the saplings by her side, their thin, bony branches standing no taller than her waist, she added. "Baby trees grow. One day, they will become giants. Immortal giants. And then they will protect you."

At her words, the trees reached up, their branches rising up towards the skies like hands, their freshly sprouted green leaves, defiant and vibrant against the stark backdrop of the barren sandland. Already she could see their roots burrowing deep into the sand, into that well deep down beneath the earth that beckoned them to live, to thrive in the face of death.

In the back, somebody murmured breathlessly as they gazed upon the impossible scene of rows upon rows of young trees growing from the desertland.

"... a miracle…It is a miracle..."

Shadow of the Wind Satoosa-san simply stared at her, an unreadable, edged look on his face, his silence as indecipherable as ever, until suddenly, he said in a placid, almost… gentle voice. She might have believed it had she not known, from just a few months of having known the man, that there was little that was soft and gentle in the chief of the Sand village.

"You are tired," his hand moved to her temple to brush aside a stray lock of hair before grazing her cheek, now clammy with the sweat of her brows. "That is enough work for a day. Let us go home." And he led her by the hand away from the desert and its harsh sun. More than the silence and the neutral veneer, it was this voice that so ill-fit the warrior Satoosa-san that most concerned Kagome.

* * *

By the second month under Satoosa's tutelage, Kagome had graduated from speaking a smattering of words to speaking full—albeit of questionable grammatical structure—sentences at once. In the third month, they touched upon the alphabet, which, in its full depth, consisted of a brutal 50,000 characters. And that was not even all. That was only just one script, albeit the oldest and most extensive one, out of the several in use by the sand people and other human settlements of this world, or so said Satoosa-san before he promptly and resolutely assured her that eventually, she would be required to learn all of them and he would be her teacher to that very distant end.

Of course, it would take years to master all 50,000 of that first script alone, but by the fourth month, armed with the 46 most commonly used letters, they progressed to reading.

It started with a children's book. Not the handsome, glitter filled, high-quality print booklet Kagome used to see back home, all glossy pages and full with hand-drawn cutesy pictures and cut-out figurines, but a small, worn thing with a dull brown leather jacket. The book was slightly battered around the edges, as if it had been grasped and pulled and pushed by tiny little hands one too many times.

"Nursery rhymes," said Satoosa-san before she even thought to ask. "They are simple and the rhymes should make it easy for you to remember." That made sense. Once he had explained the lack of any conventional teaching materials to her. Before her, there was simply never any need to teach foreigners their tongue. All within this land spoke and wrote the same language. It stood to reason then that the only way Kagome was to learn the language would be the same as how all sand children do.

A nursery book that had seen uses. It looked completely out of place in the hard, callused hands of the warrior Satoosa-san… that was, until she touched it. There were memories sleeping deep in the leather cover and the wrinkled paper pages, in the smudges of crayon at its back. A sunshine day where the sun's rays but did not scotch. Smelling baby's breath in the tingling, bell-like laughter of a child. He kissed her hair where it smelled like warm honey and melted caramel. Little hands, little feet, little faces with big, big smiles. Small and soft and fragile and so so scary. All of a sudden it occurred to her that the easy familiarity with which Satoosa held the book could have come only from years of personal experience.

She withdrew at once, feeling helplessly mortified for something she now felt as easily as breathing.

"Your children's book," she stated, drawing upon the image of the little boys and girl and the smiling woman she had once seen in his memories. Satoosa disregarded her statement with ease, having done this a hundred times before in just a short few months of having acted as her sole teacher. Instead, he leveled a stern look at her before commanding.

"Focus."

Then he opened the first page and started to read. The first rhyme told a tale of a rabbit making mochi cakes on the moon in five simple verses. Satoosa had a surprisingly nice voice, a smooth inbetween of baritone and bass, warm and with a rhythm that drew in listeners, and he carried the tune of the rhyme with ease. He might not be a singer, but the verses, coming from his mouth, held a gentle cadence that was easy to listen to.

Then he stopped, asked her if she had gotten it and then told her it was her turn to read. This was how the lesson went for the night, reading children rhymes back and forth, learning the words and sentences the baby way. The book, which was not a thick one, ended with a lullaby, 'Song of the Cradle'.

It took Kagome three days to learn it from cover to cover, memorizing the words, learning the letters, reading page after page without stumbling for too long.

Then he came with the next book, a collection of children stories illustrated with color pictures, and the next, and by the burning fireplace of her room, he made her sit wrapped up in layers of furs and blankets to ward off the cold of the onset desert winter and read to her the stories of his homeland.

A month of lessons passed this way, then there came a book not quite for little toddlers. A children's history book, illustrated. It was titled 'The Oasis' and it told the story of how the Sand people's village came to be.

'_The great empire collapsed 10 years after the last rain fell on the windswept plains and left its children wandering the paths in need and hunger…' _the tale started._ 'And for many years they wandered, a people once rich and powerful, now made poor and voiceless. Once there were green fields, kissed by the sun. Once there were valleys where rivers used to run. Once there was sweet land where honey came from the earth and milk from the flower fields, but their home now lay in the dust. Gone were the green fields, parched by the sun. Gone were the valleys where rivers used to run.' _

Unlike the previous books, with this one, he was as riveted by the childish tale as she, a fact that told of his love for his country.

'_The people despaired, believing their fate to be divine retribution for their years of wanton excess. Many ran away and died in the wasteland where their bones made a graveyard, their blood a swamp. But most kept on wandering, for they had nowhere else to go. They lingered for decades, roaming from settlement to settlement, trading petty goods to pass the days by, and wherever they went, they were never accepted, for the other peoples thought them cursed by the gods and were loath to take in the cursed ones. Even the Wind people believed themselves forsaken, until one day, the spirits of the wind came to a little boy and told him. _

_Follow the dancing aurora. Follow it until you find the heart of the desert. _

_What followed is a schism that marked the beginning. A third of the people splintered off and followed the boy. The rest stayed their path. For nine years they followed the aurora in the skies, walking the sandhills at night, until finally, they found it. _

_The oasis. The heart of the desert. _

_By the green tree lines they halted their camels and dismantled their caravans and by the water's edge they built their first home since a long, long time. Here they lived, sustained by the oasis, and here they fought in defense of their hard-earned home, until eventually, they became known as the people hidden by the sand, and the boy who led them to the oasis became known as the first Shadow of the Wind.' _

The hand-drawn illustration at the end of the book was a double-paged spread. On one page, a dilapidated city in grayscale, the crumpled, gargantuan corpse of something once mighty. On the other page, a tiny village budding in a gloriously burning sun, stretching languidly from a sparkling blue lake.

Satoosa closed the book and handed it to her, and instead of asking her to read, he said.

"Go to sleep. We will depart early tomorrow." Before she could ask, he continued.

"I have something to show you."

* * *

The pond that lay before Kagome's eyes was small, its water still. There were dust on the bottom and in the murky depths, and occasionally a bubble from a rare stray fish that had—somehow—miraculously survived in the stagnant water. From the stone ledge, an old man and woman sat with fishing poles extending into the water, eyes closed as if asleep.

"Not very impressive, isn't it?" The old woman stirred from her death-like sleep, face wrinkling into a wicked smile.

"Ah!" Kagome shrieked, startled. "I.. ah… you… san…" She knew what to say in this kind of situation. Satoosa-san had taught her. But in the suddenness of the moment, the words fled her mind.

"Oohh, one thing at a time, little girl. Shall we start with names?" said the old woman. "Mine is Chiyo. What is yours?"

"I… I am Kagome, Kagome Higurashi."

"The desert spirit can speak after all!" Twittered the old man, his smile mirroring his female counterpart. "I was sure she was quiet like a little sand mouse." Then he inclined his head somewhere behind Kagome. "It seems we shall make a fine teacher out of you yet, Kazekage-kun. After all, if you can teach the voiceless spirit of the desert to speak the mortal tongue, teaching a bunch of little kids how to fling kunai should be easy no?"

Coming up from behind her, Satoosa gave a short bow at the pair. "Honored siblings."

"Spirit of the desert?" Kagome repeated the title with which the old man called her, eyes darting back and forth between Satoosa and the pair.

"It's what the people have you been calling you," replied Chiyo.

"Oh…" She turned to look at the pond, not knowing how to respond to that revelation, then something came to her and she turned to look at Satoosa. "Is this… the lake, the oasis… in the book?"

"Yes."

"Oh… it's…," she floundered for words "... small." And indeed the pond was small, tiny even. It would be more apt to call it a deep hole with some water in it than a pond, let alone a lake. If it wasn't for that story yesterday she would have thought this a particularly large well not unlike some others she had seen dotted about the village.

Chiyo cackled at her comment, as if she was greatly amused. Satoosa simply nodded as if he too agreed.

"Disappointed?" … well… yes… the story of the previous night had made the oasis into some miracle of nature, a grand thing teeming with life. This… this was… not even anywhere close to the exquisite vision painted in the last page of the book. She had been so taken with that story. It must have shown on her face because the next thing Satoosa said was, "It used to be much bigger."

"It used to encompass this entire village," said Chiyo. "But that time is long since gone. These young 'uns…" she nodded at Satoosa. "... never even got to see its majesty back then." The wrinkles on her face pinched and pulled as she grimaced from some unsavory thought. "Though I doubt Kazekage-kun brought you here simply to show you this old well, you are headed elsewhere I assume?"

Satoosa nodded.

"In that case, we shan't keep you," said the old man, making a shooing motion with his hand. "My name is Ebizo. Go along now, little desert spirit. Now that you can talk, come back anytime. We old people would like to know more about your world of spirits too."

As they made the long trek out the Southern village gate, Kagome gathered enough courage to place the question in her mind.

"How did it happen?" she said slowly, carefully, stringing the words together one by one. When she put a mind to it and when she wasn't startled by somebody else speaking too rapidly, she could speak well enough for a complete foreigner. "How did the oasis become... a well?"

He looked sideways at her without stopping, then reached out and took her hand. The flare of the seal draw on her palm was now a familiar little pin prick against her senses.

'Overpopulation' He replied through the voice of her high school teacher. It seemed this conversation would be well beyond her current hearing ability.

"Oh…"

They passed the gate and ventured into the basin of entisol proper, trailed only by a single guard and warrior maiden. The sun had yet to come up. The sand beneath the sole of her shoes was still cold. The wind howled. From the ground rose sharp cement ridges that looked blue in the dark but once the sun come up, she knew, would be a brilliant copper color that told of the vast amount of metal components underneath.

'That must sound petty to you but when this village was founded over a hundred years ago, it quickly became the safe haven for many. People from all corners of the desert poured through this gate in search of the water of life. That was good at first, because we needed more people to build our village and protect it, but very quickly our number grew beyond what a single oasis could support.'

"You must have had plans. I saw people who bend stone… and water."

'Indeed we did. The first Shadow of the Wind was a person who could manipulate water the way I could manipulate metal,' he lifted up a hand and a nebula of gold came from the flask at his hip to dance around his arm in demonstration. 'It was how he managed to find this single oasis in the deep desert. We did not have very many people like him but for a while, but we maintained the oasis in almost pristine condition...' He paused there for a second.

"Something happened?"

"Yes"

"What was it?"

"War."

They scaled the sharp ridge of a hill in silence, trailed by the guards and the maidens that now followed Kagome everywhere with the exception of the sacred well where they met the old siblings.

'We were invaded. Then we ourselves invaded others in retaliation. Wars are costly. We were forced to shift our production into wartime economy. Most of us back then were pure warriors so we had little understanding how this would impact the village in the long term. The resources with which we used to maintain the oasis were shifted into growing our war machines and our soldiers.'

"... You be.. beliv… thought… the oasis would last?" She needed a dictionary. Her entire vocabulary was still comprised of the simple words in children's books.

'We did," he paused. 'We were wrong. When we returned from wars, our beloved lake had shrunk. We scrambled to fix it, but though we could manipulate the streams and draw moisture from the air, truly creating water from nothing was beyond our abilities. The natural world has its laws. Just because we can shift things a little here and there does not mean we can go about breaking the laws of nature at will.'

He turned to look at her then. _Except for you_, the silence seemed to say. Then the path sloped down and then up, made a turn under a rincon and suddenly in front of them was a great stone wall that extended as far as the eye could see from both side.

"Kazekage-sama!" came a voice from high up above, then a string of words too quick for Kagome to catch. He gripped her arms tight just as the earth below them moved and rose up as if an elevator.

"Whoa…" She stumbled, held onto to him tight as they ascended the wall. A sand warrior received them on the ledge.

"Kazekage-sama, Miko-sama," he greeted, folding into a deep, respectful bow.

"Hello," waved Kagome at the guard who, now that she took a good look at him, couldn't be that much older than her. His eyes however, were wide and impossibly full with reverence and it was directed at her. "Um… hi?" She tried the wave again, harder this time, only for the guard to drop even lower and let loose a stream of words way too fast for her to even make heads or tails out of.

"Oh…uh…I… uh… please… please stand… out… in… up?" Phrasal verbs were difficult. Scratch that. Phrasal verbs were really really difficult. It completely bamboozled her that a single word could have so many different meanings depending on which adverbs followed in its wake. It didn't help that her mind was still misted over for having been roused from sleep far earlier than her usual time.

By the way the guard was peeking at her with an undisguised and plainly confused expression, she hadn't gotten her message across. Kagome turned pleading eyes towards her oft taciturn guardian who, with a short and succinct command, sent the sand guard scurrying off.

"You butchered our language," he commented dryly, turning to look her in the eye with one brow raised. Without waiting for her to piece together an apology, he pulled her to the other side of the wall, onto an outcrop overlooking the country.

"Wait," he commanded as he steered her towards the still dark but vast vista of the windswept plain. A minute went by, two. Then suddenly, a burst of sunlight appeared over the far horizon. It was as abrupt as it was glorious. The young sun drew a nimbus of gold and orange as dawn slowly rose on the desert.

"There," At his command, her gaze dropped curiously down along the vertical slope of the wall upon which they perched, until it rested upon a vast and empty space. The dust field opened up into a basin. The ground beneath was made up entirely of gravels, parched and cracked and dusted with the silvery white of salt buildup. There were calderas in the stones, gouges like the claws of some great beast carved some twenty, thirty feet deep into the earth. There were marks branching out from these bottomless chasm, arroyos that had long since dried up.

Writhing about and intertwining the arroyos were the bleached white roots of long dead trees, and dotted onto their branches were tiny patches of dirty green and brown moss.

All of this created a panorama that whispered softly but firmly that history had happened here, perhaps long ago… but still unfaded. And beneath this panorama was….

Kagome stilled, awed by the thing beneath.

… regret, sorrow that was bone-deep, longing that lasted a lifetime and more….

They lumbered beneath the ground, nebulous, wreathed in plumes of flickering light, like great whales swimming in the depths of the sea, unseen by all but her and her alone.

"What is that?" She asked breathlessly, for a moment overwhelmed by the memories deep within the earth. Was this, she thought to herself, how Kikyo had felt when she entered the cave where Onigumo once lay? Where the very soil beneath his body was soaked with desire and thoughts of her? Obsession so strong it became the heart of a demon.

No.

Onigumo was only one person, and he only had a cave in which he lay on a rotted mat. This, here, was infinitely greater than what she as Kikyo had felt in that tiny and comparably insignificant cave. Did a war happen here? On this very spot?

Kagome hadn't really expected an answer and so was surprised when she got one.

"Remnants of a dream," said Satoosa. That he replied in his own voice and his own language riveted her entire attention to what he would say next.

'We sought to push back the very desert.' Kaede's voice then, in her head, piecemeal words stitched together to form coherent sentences.

"You did not suc.. suc… win?"

There was an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

'It was all a very grand plan. We dug deep trenches, raised stone cliffs, yanked subterranean rivers aboveground. We planted trees and thought that we could mold the land into whatever we desired. We even had someone like you then, an ally called the first shadow of fire, who could bend wood to his will.'

He made a vague motion at the gargantuan dead tree roots down below. Her gaze followed the trajectory of his hand as she tried to imagine the colossal undertaking that must have been.

'The trees he planted were titans, but without the proper care they could not survive this harsh terrain. It took a fortune just to keep a single tree alive and we were never an especially rich people to begin with. We had plenty of this…'

Gold dust danced around his hand.

'But this thing… it is not worth a lot when you lack basic necessities such as crops… and the water you might drink reserved to sustain grand but ultimately doomed hyperions. Before long, our soil began to fail from our abuse of the underground rivers, and our resources with it.'

"What did you do?"

'What would you have done in our place?' he hedge, but there was no heat there. 'We needed more to feed our land, to feed our trees, so we turned to what we had always been best at.'

"War?"

He nodded, looking at some far away point in the vast and empty dust basin. 'If you have nothing, it is easy to justify taking things from others. Did your people teach you philosophy, priestess? When you were in training?' He looked back at her. 'Ours once said, when all the world is overcharged with inhabitants, then the last remedy of all is war, which provideth for every man, by victory or death.'

"War… is never… never the right thing," she protested, frowning at her guardian whose expression was as inscrutable as ever. "It is… a circle… It is whirlpool with no end."

"Perhaps so," he said in reply, then fell silent.

"You wanted to show me something. Is it this?" She prodded and was rewarded with yet a tiny nod of his head.

"Why? What do you want me to ob… to see?"

He went quiet for maybe a minute, his eyes not on her but on the great marks in the ground far down below. He had the air of a man who was waiting for something to arrive but also knew that it would not.

"You look upon the corpse of our greatest dream, priestess" he said finally, using both voices, one from his mouth, the other from her memories. "... and our greatest failure. This is where the edge of our oasis used to be."

She stared at him, surprised, her mind working to marry the incongruous images of a lake of such size with the pitiable, dusty old well she had seen but half an hour ago.

"That's..."

"Unbelievable? I thought so too, once," Satoosa cut in. The undisguised bitterness in his voice shocked her into silence. "We are but thirsty children whose forefathers drank without thought. But now that you are here…" His gaze was fastened to her then, eyes heavy with intent.

"You want me… to make the trees grow here." He wanted her to transform the land itself, knew she could do it, and had good reasons to.

It made perfect sense really, when she thought about it, a logical next step to ensuring a steady food supply for a desert bound community. Desertification was a real problem in many countries of her previous home and previous timeline. She had learned from the geological books of her high-school classroom that fighting against something like that started with nurturing a vegetation line durable enough to withstand the harsh condition. In time and with the right conditions, the trees themselves will stabilize the soil and rebalance underground water sources. But the land around this village, Sunagakure she had learned the proper name, was as bad as it could get. If it was fertile once then it would have been a very long time ago. The proof of soil degradation and prolonged mismanagement of water resources, those cracks in the earth and the silvery white dust, were clear before her eyes.

Satoosa smiled at her then, a rare and slightly awkward quirk of his mouth, half forced and half genuine, as if the man himself was rusty when it came to expressing delight or happiness. He put a hand in his pocket, withdrew it. Then he took her hand and in her palm, carefully, gently, a little tentatively, he laid the gleaming black and brown seeds of the cedar and the acacia. When he spoke next, there was nothing but simple honesty in his words.

"I want you to know how important you have become to me, and to my people."

* * *

**End Chapter 6**

* * *

1\. Kagome meets Gaara next chapter, first scene right in, for real. Pinky promise! I was gonna push in that next segment too but then more world building and (very subtle) characterization for Yondaddy Kazekage happened. You would think he's become a favorite of mine, but actually it's not. This extra (very subtle and very much open to interpretation) character building for him in this chapter is actually an extension of the building of Sunagakure's cultural identity. Remember Konoha has that dancing leaves and shadow of the fire and stuff? I wanted something for Suna as well. We know little about Suna as a culture, a country and a people with history from canon. In canon, Konoha is basically the center of the universe. It's the first ninja village. It's got both Hashirama and Madara and it's got Naruto and Sasuke, the reincarnations of Indra and Ashura and so on and so forth. Seems a little unfair you know. Plus I want to explore new ground, so I created a semi-mythical background and history for it.

2\. The nursery rhymes featured in the earlier part of this chapter are real Japanese Warabe Uta. They are traditionally taught to little children as preparation for learning the alphabet.

3\. The language of Narutoverse in here is based on an amalgamation of real Japanese scripts over various eras. It is a mixture of sogana, hiragana, katakana, gojuon and of course, kanji. There are more than 50 000 kanji in reality. Most of them are defunct though. Only about several thousands are used frequently nowadays. In here, Kazekage first taught Naruto something similar to Hiragana and will try to teach her the noble scripts such as sogana and kanji later on.

4\. A couple readers have repeatedly asked me over several chapters this same question:

'_**I don't get why Kagome can't understand the Narutoverse language considering she speaks Japanese herself?' **_

So I'll explain it here. There are several reasons for this that pretty much boil down to 'a difference of universes and eras'

a/ First, nowhere in canon Naruto has it ever been explicitly stated that the language of Narutoverse is actually the same 'modern Japanese' that Kagome knows and use. Kishimoto stated that the world of Naruto is a fantasy version of Japan and various other Asian cultures. It is alluded in story that the language is Japanese yes, but it is never explicitly stated. What you see as Japanese script drawn in the manga is the 'language of communication', not necessarily the language used in-universe. If you're confused, think about it this way: the Lord of the Ring trilogy, do you think any of the characters in there speak modern English?

Nope, some of them speak Westron, some Quenya, some SIndarin, some Orcish. But what we see in the book is English and if translated, other languages. That is called 'the language of communication' or 'the language of presentation'. There's a difference between that and the actual language used by the characters of any fictional universes. The difference is not always clear and defined but it is there. You need only look at the seal scripts (which are not pure hiragana, katakana, or kanji) of Narutoverse to see a subtle hint that the actual in-universe language may be at least slightly different from modern Nihongo scripts.

b/ Two, a difference of eras. Even in the case that the in-universe language of Naruto is 'Japanese', it still is unlikely to be the same form of Japanese used in Inuyasha verse. A language is a fluid thing that changes and evolves through time. Take old English for example, from the 12th or 13th century (called Anglo-Saxon). If I give you a 12th century English script, are you sure you can read and understand it completely? Beowulf was written in Anglo-Saxon English. Modern readers, even if they are native speakers, have to read the translated version. And that's only a few century of time differences.

If you have to measure the difference in time era between modern day Inuyasha verse (from which Kagome hailed) and Naruto-verse (which in canon timeline is a hundred years away from their equivalent of real world Japanese Sengoku Jidai era with the warring of states and ninja clans), can you do it?

There you have it then, why Kagome and the people of Naruto-verse don't speak the exact same language.

I simply do it as a way to bolster the realism of the story. Because seriously a person coming from a completely different universe, from a completely different timeline and a world with completely different metaphysical rules (the humans of Inuyasha sure can't do the things Naruto ninjas can do) speaking the exact same language as the locals do is logical?!

Also, it's just cause I'm into crazy obscure world building detail like that. What can I do? I'm like a drug addict when it comes to obscure details.

Anyway, I hope that clarifies things up.

5\. Apparently the Yondaime Kazekage has been given a canon name by Kishimoto in the 4th data book. His name is - drumsroll - Rasa. Should I change the name to the new, canonical one or keep the old, fanmade one do you think? Personally, I like the name Rasa. It has a Middle-Eastern bend to it that will definitely allows me to play around with the world building of the story. I have always wanted a more culturally diverse Narutoverse anyway.

6\. The descriptions of the caldera part as well as Sunagakure geology is based on actual real world depiction of aridisols, desert soil that has been salinated or has a very high buildup of metal deposit due to mismanagement of water sources.

7\. I can't wait until we get to Gaara. I have such plans for this lil' kid.

8\. If I may, I would like to ask your personal interpretation of Kazekage as a character in this story and this chapter. I put in a lot of nuances in his interaction with Kagome and these are left deliberately open to interpretation. His thoughts and feelings for Kagome can only be described as… muddled and conflicted, at times bitter and fearful, at times in awe and covetous, at times indulgent, at times frustrated and helpless, at times resentful. The exact details are up to the individual readers though and I would really like to know my reader's interpretation of the character, see how each of you read the in-between-the-lines I left in there.

Cyber cookies if you do let me know!

Sythe


	7. Chapter 7: Kunoichi and Miko

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Beta: Michelle T.

**Chapter 7:**** Kunoichi and Miko**

* * *

It was around the end of December that Temari received the mission scroll with her name inscribed on the metal plate of its seal cartridge. Her name, and her's alone. No Kankuro, no Gaara, not even that of her jounin teacher. Baki was with her when she opened the seal with a spike of her chakra, took out the scroll, unfurled and read it. The name caught her attention immediately, and with it, she could already surmise, without having to read through the entire thing, what it would entail.

This name, she thought to herself as she finger the paper in her hands, had been the talk of the entire village for most of the last year. Only if Temari had been living under a rock deep in some far-flung outpost, would she not have known it by now. The name of the miko was all but pinned onto everyone's tongue these days… almost literally, considering what they had been eating.

"It's A-rank," she commented, turning to the patiently waiting Baki who nodded. A Suna A-rank mission more or less amounted to a borderline S-rank in other villages, such as their neighbor Konohagakure. This was fact, not a boast. Because of the inherent high cost of producing and maintaining a single Suna nin, most clients and even their own daimyo patron tended to export low level missions to other cheaper villages. The only territory in which the Suna nins could prove that their skills are worth every Ryou of their rate was the higher tiers of ninja services: the long term, complicated assignments that would see their agents missing for years from their home, the risky missions that other villages, flushed with revenue from short and easy B and C pickoffs weren't particularly inclined to accept. Their mission ranking system was adjusted as a direct result of this tendency.

"There's no danger to speak of. The miko has no combat capability whatsoever, and, as far we have seen, is heavily disinclined towards harming so much as a weed, let alone a person, but..." Baki explained.

"But it's important right? Father can't do it, and you can't do it. Others aren't trustworthy enough, so it can only be me. And it's long term," Temari continued where he left off. She rolled the scroll shut. Long term was a heavy understatement. This particular mission had no end date. It was indefinite, and it would go on for as long as the objectives needed to be maintained. It was worthy of its ranking alright.

Temari's mission, as explained in short, succinct words in the scroll, was to approach the Miko, befriend her and bond her to Sunagakure. Temari was far from the first person to be charged with such a task. Hers was simply the continuation of what her father and a select few Kunoichi who comprised of the Miko's bodyguard team had already begun. A slow, gradual fostering of loyalty and affection that would endure.

Baki nodded with a look of satisfaction on his face. "She has shown a great deal of trust in Lord Kazekage, but…"

"... but dad is a still a middle-aged man and the Miko is still a teenage girl. And there are limits as to how close he can get and how much he can make her open up, am I right?"

"You've got it," said Baki slowly. "For this mission, you will have the assistance of the Miko's protection squad and its chief. Your assignment starts in three days. I will be available should you wish to discuss the particulars."

That Baki managed to say this with a perfectly even voice was proof of his control over himself, because Temari knew, without a doubt, that he was as unsettled as her by this assignment. Baki was a perfectionist, and this kind of missions, often called Lipstick and Cat Claws by both kunoichi and shinobi, was the worst matchup for him. Her dear teacher was a combat type through and through. The mission, on the other hand, required pure interpersonal expertises. She would bet that given the opportunity, Baki would rather take on a highly risky S-rank seek and destroy mission deep in enemy's territory rather than having to endure the inane twists and turns of a B-rank entice and make-nice mission.

Temari herself was little better than her Jounin teacher. She too would rather cave in an enemy's head with her battle fan than spring open a puny paper one and sprout poetries at some unlucky nobody. If she had to be honest, Temari would say that she was an altogether bad choice for this assignment, being both too lacking in terms of social skills and possessing a decidedly abrasive personality… and—at only around 14 years old—was three years short of being a contemporary proper of the 17 year old Miko.

For this mission, a kunoichi of no more than 18 years old but no less than 16—specifically trained in the subtle arts of charms, seduction, and social etiquettes. Since Suna was one among the great five ninja villages, there were no lack of such kunoichi within their walls. Yet none of those kunoichi were the Kazekage's daughter, and thus could not be trusted to be among one of the anchors that bound the Miko to their village. So to Temari, the mission went.

"For this task, Lord Kazekage can trust only you, Temari. It is an honor," said Baki, rather needlessly if she had anything to say about it. She merely nodded and asked to go home to prepare.

When she was alone in her room, she opened the cartridge to its last compartment and out came a little booklet. She picked it off her bed, opened it. It was a briefer pack on the Miko.

A face stared up at her from the first page. A mugshot taken when the Miko was first 'discovered' and registered proper into the system. She had a startlingly pretty face, Temari noted, even with that sloppily shorn off hair and the exhausted look in her eyes. Her skin held the dark, muddy tan of those who worked regularly under the sun and Temari detected the hint of malnourishment in the bony edge of the Miko's cheekbones.

This photo would be more than half a year old by now.

On the right of the photo was the name. The script was alien to her, the first hint of the Miko's foreign origin. They looked like the traditional kanji, except they weren't. Then next to it, was the phonetic translation of the name.

Kagome, Higurashi.

The name in the warped kanji was crossed over and the phonetic translation one underlined in red. 'Official record' said the note next to it.

Of course, thought Temari, dad wouldn't want everyone to know her true name, in case someone outside of Suna recognize the origin and attempt a claim of relation. This little book here then contained all the information in its virgin state. Temari had no doubt a vetted version had been released into various documents to cement the Miko's Suna citizenship and official persona to anyone caring to look.

Beneath the names were several lines of miscellaneous data typically found in personal documentations.

Birth place: blank (Official record: West 5 District, Sunagakure, Kaze no Kuni)

Birthday: June 28, blank year (Official record: June 28th, 3xxx)

Age: 17 at time of discovery (Official record: 17, ward of state)

Parentage: blank (Official record: war orphan of listed extinct Higurashi clan, Sunagakure)

Blood type: O (With a note of some yet undiscerned irregularities found in her antigen set)

The numbers listing the Miko's height, weight, and sizes painted the picture of a very petite girl in Temari's mind. A civilian with not a lot of muscle mass to her already diminutive height. Temari, at only 14, was already taller than her by an inch.

The next page listed detailed recorded instances of the Miko's kekkei genkai. Aside from a couple of weird footnotes, it had nothing that Temari did not already know or guess. After all, it would be hard to miss the belt of trees growing in the front of the village. On the official records however, the ability was listed as a new type of 'Hiden'.

Clever, thought Temari.

If the ability were listed as a kekkei genkai, a rival village wanting to deny Suna their boon would need only take out the current single bloodline bearer to end the line once and for all. But Hiden were secret techniques that could be taught to other disciples, so simply taking out the original creator would not necessarily put an end to the technique itself. She had no doubt a competent ninja would question every bit of information he or she got from the official channel, but all this misinformation was bound to trip up quite a few of them for a long while yet.

In the middle of the booklet were copies of what appeared to be the Miko's attempts at writing the common tongue. Scrutinizing the atrocious penmanship, Temari realized she was looking at written exercises. Someone, quite possibly her father, had set the Miko to writing out paragraphs introducing herself and her… country… in their language, a subtle but highly effective way to innocuously extract information without having to ask too many questions.

'My name is...' read the first line. The name was again written in the alien script and above it, the phonetic translation in red ink note. It was her father's handwriting.

'I came from...' another alien word. The translation read _'Tokeeoh' _in the place of city and _'Zha-Paan' _in the place of country.

'It is an...'_Ayseean _'...country, surrounded by the...' _Pah-Cee-Fic_ '... ocean. In the North is the…' Ah-Zhee-Ah '...continent, and in the South is...' _Os-Tray-Lee-Ah_ '...

_She really is from a completely different place_, Temari realized with a jolt. This script, these names and terms and places she had never heard of—and Temari was no ignorant civilian girl who could claim to know no better. Unbidden, she thought of the rumors the rank and file shinobi and kunoichi whispered about, that the Miko was in truth a desert spirit given human form and that was why she could not speak the universal tongue. Before this, such whispering had sounded like superstitious nonsense to Temari, but now that she had seen evidence of the Miko's otherworldly origin and found no other logical answers, she floundered to dismiss the idea outright.

But thinking such thoughts now served no purpose, so Temari forged on ahead and turned the next page, carefully reading the sloppily written lines. The very next part turned out to be a personal introduction.

'I am a...' _Meekoh '_… priestess? What kind of priestess was a Miko? And how did one qualify to become one? Temari read on, hoping for an in-depth explanation of the Miko's power and training only to find no such easy pickings.

'I live in a shrine, with my mother, my brother and my grandfather.' No mentioning of a father, huh? But other than that, this was looking pretty tame so far. Temari hadn't really come into this with too many expectations but… the Miko's otherworldly abilities and origin had created assumptions of a far more… extraordinary home life. This, on the other hand, was verging on boring, and it had absolutely no mentionings of any sort of priestly training whatsoever. Temari covered her mouth as she took a big yawn.

'I have a cat. His name is Buyou. I go to school at...' It went on for several paragraphs, describing the details of what seemed a perfectly mundane life. Until the last sentence...

'On my fifteenth birthday...'

And then it stopped, there, the statement hanging. Beneath that was her father's note in red ink.

'_She asked for a change of subject, would not specify why.' _

So something happened then. Something that connected the perfectly ordinary and powerless fifteen year old civilian girl then and the priestess they had now. A blossoming of her power perhaps? Was it one in her bloodline and was that why she was living in a shrine in the first place? Temari made a note before forging on.

The couple of pages left were observations on personality type, behaviors and habits. The information was written in psychological dissection of the many observed instances of her behaviour: her initial rejection of the Homeless Center Director's request, her interactions with the orphans and members of the Center. It was all very dry stuff filled with technical jargon that worked little in painting an accurate mental picture of the Miko in Temari's mind. Closing the booklet and putting it back into the sealed cartridge, Temari thought hard on how to approach the mission.

She felt woefully underprepared. This was not something she could shake her battle fan at, and despite having read the booklet from cover to cover, she still felt like she didn't know her target at all.

What kind of a person was the Miko? Temari needed the full-bodied opinions of those who had known and worked with the Miko, not dry technical jargons that belonged in a head doctor's textbook.

Well, decided Temari finally, if she felt she didn't know enough about her target, then there was only one way about it. To find out more herself. It was probably expected of her anyhow.

Drawing a pen and a piece of paper from her table, Temari wrote a short and succinct request to rendezvous with Oren, the chief of the Miko's protection squad. Then she opened the window of her room, put her thumb and forefinger into her mouth and with a sharp whistle, summoned the family carrier eagle. She tied the piece of parchment to the bird's foot, then brought her hand up in a sharp motion, launch the eagle into flight.

"And… off you go."

* * *

The next morning saw Temari sitting in the corner seat at the central market ninja cafe. On her table she kept a pitcher of iced lemon tea and her notebook. The reply note from Oren had been more than accommodating. Instead of just meeting the chief, Temari would be talking one-on-one to all members of the squad for a complete perspective. The kunoichi had even sent back a timed roster and suggested safe locations.

Around nine, the first kunoichi came in. She had long black hair, and instead of the usual Sand kunoichi garb, was dressed in a simple white cotton dress and yellow plastic sandals. They talked briefly and quietly under the protective dome of a privacy seal, Temari fielding her questions and taking notes in coded scripts.

"She's kind," said the first kunoichi to the question of 'What is the Miko like?'

Kind… was not a word Temari often heard associated with a person within her household. Strong, capable and determined to do whatever it took for the good of the village were the more popular descriptive terms by far, so even as she noted down the Kunoichi's answer, she didn't quite know what to make of it.

"She likes oden and sweets," said the second Kunoichi. That might be useful for something.

"She prefers either a flirty, short skirt or very formal vaguely priestly garbs in white and red," declared the third. "I wonder what kind of home culture breeds such schizophrenic fashion sense."

"She can't sing," stated the fourth with a nod and a smile. "... cannnnn't sing."

By the sixth Kunoichi, Temari was getting the impression that her mission would be firmly cemented in the bubblegum and frilly dresses territory. Then, in walked the chief of the squad, Oren herself.

In person, she was a slight woman of the same variety as the other six. Long dark hair, leanly petite frame, fair skin despite the constantly burning sun. Dressed as she was, even fellow ninja might write her off as soft and harmless, except for a subtle glint in her eyes, which held the hardness of fire-forged steel.

Oren, if Temari was not wrong, had served in Sand's very own version of ANBU corps for two years before going back to normal tokubetsu jounin duty. An assassin and past member of the cloth binder corps, she was the kind of kunoichi Temari aspired to be.

"You don't look too happy, Temari-san," she commented as she sat down across from Temari.

"I'm not sure I'm the right choice for this mission," Temari admitted with a frown. She hadn't been sure when she took the cartridge bearing the missive from Baki, and now, after having talked to six kunoichi who constantly guarded the Miko, had become even less sure of her father's choice.

"Why is that?"

"I'm not a civilian. I don't have any civilian friends or know of any around my age on speaking terms. I don't… I don't know how to befriend one to begin with, and that is my mission isn't it?" It rankled to say that out loud, but Oren had been nothing but helpful, and eventually, as Temari's liaison, she was liable to have a say in whether Temari was a good fit for the assignment or not. Better get this out before either of them committed more of themselves to what might end up a fruitless endeavour.

In response, Oren regarded her for a moment before smiling.

"Then it's a good thing that Miko-sama is not a civilian."

…What?!

Temari's expression must have done the asking for her, because Oren followed up with another statement.

"There are scars on her body."

Temari frowned. But that could have come from accidents. Scars weren't exclusive to ninja alone.

"The one on her hip reaches deep into the bone. Star shape," Oren continued, well aware of the argument in Temari's head before she even voiced it. "Around this big," she held up one hand, fingers splayed wide. Temari eyed her hand. That was a big scar. The shape was also unusual.

"The medical corp are still perplexed as to what could have caused such a strange scar to begin with," Oren poured herself a glass from the iced tea pitcher, drank it. "She has some claw marks on one shoulder and what looks like the teeth mark of some great war beasts on one bicep. These aren't marks a shrine-dwelling civilian could get by being clumsy, Temari. These are battle scars. Our Miko has seen combat, and survived."

Oren held up a hand, index finger pointing out, other fingers wound closed. "She has a callus here, on her right hand, around the base."

"That's a strange place for a callus."

"You get it if you do a lot of archery and favor your right hand," said Oren. "Archers use their index finger to nock and shoot."

Temari went quiet, running the new information through her head, then jotted them down into her notebook.

"How come the other six said nothing of this?" she asked finally when she was done with the notes. Just from talking to the six previous kunoichi, she had been building a completely different idea in her head.

"Their perspectives are just as valid as mine," said Oren. "They are just… young. I'm a little older than the norm age." And so she saw things that her younger teammates missed, went the unspoken statement. The kunoichi that made up the squad were all around sixteen to eighteen. Oren, the single exception to this rule, was well past twenty-two despite her appearance. Temari supposed this was but one more reason why she was the chief.

"Ok, you've convinced me. The Miko is not a civilian. What kind of a person is she then?"

At her question, Oren paused. A look of consideration crossed her face. She brought up her glass and took another gulp before settling it down on the table.

"In a place of trained killers and warriors, it is easy to mistake kindness for weakness, compassion for foolish naivety. Miko-sama is kind to everyone… but herself."

"... what do you mean?"

Instead of explaining herself however, Oren simply went on. "There's no need for you to worry about how to befriend her. Chances are, she'll be the one to befriend you. There's no need to overthink things."

"You can't know that for sure…"

"Oh I do," said Oren, "Imagine if you are stranded in a completely foreign land and could barely speak a word of the local language yourself. Imagine being helpless and poor and with no friends to count on. Imagine being isolated and cut off and ignorant about the world around you. It's simply human instinct to reach out to anyone within range. Even if…" she paused there for a second. "... even if you know the hands reaching back may not be without ulterior motives of their own. Even then, it's just human instinct to willingly grasp onto those hands. The desire to be needed and included as part of a whole is firmly ingrained in us. Miko-sama is no exception."

"Your mission is simply a matter of finding a way to approach her naturally and stay within her circle of acquaintances. Familiarity breeds friendship over time. That you are a couple years younger than her is an advantage. Miko-sama adores children. Did you know it was because of the village orphans that we even found out about her power to begin with?"

So that rumor that the Miko was found in a dump was true!

Oren said with a smile, "To think, she could do all that since the beginning and more, but would not do it for herself and instead chose to live among the poorest of our people as an ordinary person… despite all that hardship, she would not use that power for her own gains. I do, at times, wonder the kind of teaching her home country imparts."

Temari went quiet for a minute as she went over what Oren had just said. She still felt like she didn't know enough about the Miko but at the same time, she was a little more confident that she would see this assignment through. Oren was very clearly quite capable at her job, and with her help, Temari couldn't perform all that badly, right?

"Alright, how will I approach her?" asked Temari.

Oren took another gulp of her iced tea before setting down the now empty glass. Pushing it aside, she then leaned in.

"Maharra, the new year's festival."

Ah! Temari perked up at the mention of Kaze no Kuni biggest festival. Without needing another word from Oren, she understood the older kunoichi's proposed plan of action. Maharra was without fail the single most important cultural and commercial festival that took place within Sunagakure. It transpired within a week, starting from the first day of the new year to the seventh day. Traditionally, the new year festival started with a sacred rite carried out by the reigning Kazekage and his immediate clan or family to the ruling class of village. The rite was then followed by a procession through the village.

"Kazekage-sama wants the Miko in the opening rite, I take it?" Out here, he was not dad. Out here, he was Kazekage-sama.

"That's right," said Oren.

It made a lot of sense really. Up until now, the Miko had been kept secluded and away from public eyes, her every movement shadowed by her guardians and herself discouraged from leaving the safe zone within the temple and the farm fields. This was to the benefit of both the Miko and the village. After all, before being taken in by father, she could speak no more than a handful of words and knew nothing of Sand culture and way of life. And while the village had unquestionably prospered since her power was put to use, Temari suspected none of them were quite ready for the social and cultural changes that were bound to come with her presence. To the majority of people in the village, Miko Kagome Higurashi was a near mythical being whose presence was felt but not seen.

But that would have to end at some point. The Miko would have to be integrated into their society proper. And what better way to do that but through their most important cultural event? Her appearance beside the Kazekage's family in such sacred rites would also cement her place as a ward of the state and the Kazekage.

"This year Maharra will be her official debut before all of Suna, and all of Kaze no Kuni," confirmed Oren.

"And I will be the one to teach her formal etiquettes and walk her through the rite, I take it?" And by doing so, would naturally have to stay by her side for an extended time.

"You've got it."

* * *

For as long as Temari remembered, there had always been a massive mesa behind the village, a plateau of vast flat plains that hung high above them, empty of everything but the dust and red stone that made up its form. For centuries, it had served as the village's natural defensive wall and training grounds for generations of Sand nin. That old mesa, it seemed, no longer existed.

Temari stood at the foot-end of the cliffs, at the coordinates given to her by Oren, waiting. As she waited, she held her head high and slanted up and glued her gaze to the cloud of green foliage that threatened to overflow the mesa cap and spilled down along the cliff walls. Leaves, and vines and ropes and roots that had dug deep into the face of the mesa only to emerge, writhing like snakes, from the vertical plane of the crags.

Within minutes, Oren appeared before her. She had on almost the same dress Temari had seen her in last and if not for her tightly bound hair and hanging position from the earthen walls, would not have appeared a kunoichi to anyone caring to look.

"Come," she beckoned Temari with one hand. "She's waiting."

They ran up the scarp, sprinting and jumping between the twisting roots of some deep-burrowing trees. When they got to the cap of the old mesa, Temari let out an involuntary gasp.

"You haven't been here lately?" asked Oren, who breezed past her. "It's called the Hanging Orchards now."

Her target being who she was, Temari had come expecting trees, a lot of trees. But this was a veritable jungle. Every inch of the old, barren mesa top was covered with plants of some kind. There were shrubs and brushes and bushes and exotic flowers beyond count. There were trees as far as her eyes could see, so densely planted that they hid the endless horizon of the mesa and the sandy country beyond it. From their heads sprung a leafy green canopies so thick it blotted out the burning desert sun. The air, cool and fresh as opposed to hot and dry, was suffused with the effervescent scent of sun-warmed wood, budding leaves and fresh tree sap. But most shocking of all was the grass.

There, right underneath the sole of Temari's sandal was a thick carpet of verdant green grass, their blades, at once sharp and pliant, poking through the gaps of her sandals and touching the skin of her toes. She stood staring at her feet for maybe a minute in silence, her mind reeling to take in the fact that the earth underneath was no longer the sandy, barren ground she had been born to and had known all her life. Ironically enough, it was this, the common grass, and not some grand trees, that finally made it sink in the kind of power the Miko had... and just how much she had changed Temari's home.

"Isn't access to this plateau restricted or something like that?" She asked finally, voice breathy with vestiges of shock and disbelief.

"By Lord Kazekage yes," said Oren. "There are many workers permitted entrance to this place however, and among them, most have young children who had never once seen a fruit-bearing tree… or a vine of flowers. Miko-sama delights in meeting them…"

There was a short pause which Temari filled in herself with the assumption that Oren and the kunoichi saw no harm in these uninvited visitors or else it would have been a different story.

"... lately she has been asking for stories from them, now that her grasp on our language is much better."

They passed by a clearing where strange wooden boxes the size of a small pony stood in rows. Temari did not ask, but the question must have been on her face all the same because the next thing Oren said was:

"Bee boxes, to make honey."

Temari paused for maybe a second, computing. "Honey? I didn't know we could make our own honey."

"That would be because the orphan children eat everything we made so far," said Oren with a smile. "In the beginning, the flower fields were just something she enjoyed."

They passed by the flower fields Oren mentioned then. They were vast plains filled with an ocean of flowers Temari could not put a name to. And dotted among this ocean were lone figures of men and women bending down with woven baskets behind their backs, diligently at work.

"Oren-sama." "Good day to you, Oren-sama." Some of them stood up straight as the pair of kunoichi passed by.

"Oren-sama, this is for Kagome-sama," said a woman as they passed her, holding up a wreath of blue and purple flowers. Temari thought the gift silly, for who would give flowers to a woman who could make an entire field bloom within mere minutes? But Oren took with a smile and a nod before resuming their conversation.

"Before long though, some of the farmers started putting forward ideas. After all, many of these flowers are medicinal and we could hardly call ourselves people of the desert if we let just about anything go to waste. Some wanted to harvest the pollens. Some wanted to create distillation workshops to turn them to oil. The bee farm is the slowest to grow since Miko-sama can't exactly make the bees anymore hard-working than they already are."

Temari was only paying half her attention to the woman. The other half was firmly ensconced in figuring out what she would do once she met the Miko for real, what she would say. What could she say really? Temari's thoughts swam in circles, tangling each others in their aimless wandering, spurred on by the thrumming of nervousness in her heart. Perhaps a greeting? Good day to you, I am so and so. Was that too formal? The Miko was only a teenage girl. Perhaps something a little more casual? Ho there! I been hearing your name around. I'm Temari and I think we are going to be seeing each others a whole lot more starting from now. Was that how the cool civilian kids did it? She wasn't really sure. But… could she really be so familiar on first meeting with the one who was powering the new economic surge of her entire village? What if she wasn't the touchy feely type and that greeting weirded her out? With this kind of missions, first impression counted for everything and now, a couple minutes away from meeting her for real, Temari was still scrambling to decide on how to make a good first impression. Aughh! She really would rather take a mission that required her to kick the tar out of some unlucky nobody than this. But there was no backing away now.

Past the blooming fields, they entered a grove of fruit trees. A footpath paved with cobble stone led deep into the heart of the grove, and there Temari saw her. The Miko.

She sat, perched like a bird, on the low hanging branch of an apple tree, her kunoichi guardians about her. Her hair had grown out since the mugshot and now it strewn down her back and shoulders in black rivulets. She was wearing the red and white formal kind of clothing the second Kunoichi mentioned. There were green stains on her hands and dirt on her feet. Her skin, Temari saw, had lost the scorched brown shade that came with too much desert sun and was now a warm, creamy ivory with the slightest hint of a fading tan. And there on her neck, the mark of Temari's father, was a gold collar.

Its presence alone stated clearly to any Suna nins and any who had heard of Sunagakure's gold wielding Kazekage.

_This one is mine._

Clasped tight around the slender column of the Miko's neck, with tiny intricate whorls and loops, the opulent collar seemed unspeakably vulgar.

As they came into the center of the grove, she was plucking plump apples from the cradling arms of the apple tree and putting them into a woven basket in her hand. A slip of her long sleeve and Temari spotted the glint of another gold bangle, this one around her wrist, snugly tight. But now she was stopping, now she was turning towards them. Her blue eyes fastened onto Temari's face.

"Kagome-san, this here is Temari," Oren walked past her, addressing the Miko, one hand held out to gesture at the younger kunoichi. "And this is for you from Komi, again." Her other hand held up the flower wreath, prompting a nearby kunoichi to take it from her hand and tied it around a branch of the apple tree where the Miko sat.

For a moment, Temari stood and stared at her target, the Miko Kagome, thoughts running and jumping like little sand bugs in her head. _This? This is the one? This is the one who is changing my entire world? This is the reason why I've rarely even seen dad home lately? The reason why Kankurou is getting subtle hints to prepare himself and Gaara is put under even stricter watch to keep him from ever crossing paths with her? This.. this… _

Absolutely ordinary girl who was barely older than Temari herself. She was looking at Temari with curiosity and a shy eagerness about her. She had an exceptionally lovely face but other than that, nothing about her even hinted at the otherworldly power that had been revolutionizing Suna society in the last half a year. And what a scary thought that was, that something previously unimaginable and impossible to them could be nestled within this seemingly ordinary vessel. What a scary thought that was to wonder what else might be in there too.

Without any warning, the Miko leapt off her perch on the tree branch and landed softly on the ground, her bare pale feet sinking into the thick grass carpet. She stepped forward then, one hand still holding on to her half-full apple basket, and with a big, open smile, sent forth a butchered greeting in the common tongue.

"Good night! I'm Kagome. I heard… lots… about you."

The pronunciation was good but her grammar needed work, and then there was that vocabulary choice. The way she stumbled over the l and t reminded Temari of Kankuro around six years old and trying to twist his tongue around big words. Her big sister reflex flared and, without stopping to think it over, Temari blurted out while pointing at the sun through the leafy canopies above them.

"It's good morning, not night, doofus."

A split second later, she remembered herself and her mission. She slapped a hand over her mouth, staring at the flummoxed Miko with barely restrained panic. Shit! So much for a good first impression. But, perhaps she didn't hear that. Dad couldn't have taught her words like doofus right? Please, please, by the Sacred Wind, let it be that she didn't hear what Temari said just now!

But it seemed that wasn't to be, not with that flush spreading across the Miko's cheeks and all the way to her ears. The Miko looked down, one hand kneading the fabric of her long skirt, then up, her eyes alighted.

"Doofus, yes. Of course, it's morning. My bad. I can hear good now, but I still speak bad.. espe… espe… if… I'm nervous or… excited," she said, her voice empty of any hints of anger. Instead, her face was lighted with a sheepish smile, her hand reaching to scratch the back of her head in the typical embarrassed pose. "I spent… time… thinking how to greet people… you."

"I'm so sorry!" Temari scrambled to apologize, bowing deeply and frantically.

"Oh no, I'm not.. um... "

"Upset. You are not upset," Oren supplied helpfully. In the background, a murmured chorus of little laughs and sniggers courtesy of the observing kunoichi.

"Right! I'm not upset. What you say is.. is... true," She put her hand on Temari's shoulder and pulled her up, then smiled at her. There was… Temari fumbled to describe it… but… there was a sort of honesty about her. Instead of a priestess whose power had been supporting an entire village, she appeared more a farm girl from some off country where the hills were green and rolling, the people simple and stout hearted, and the local lords minor and deigned to mingle with their peasants. It was… surprisingly refreshing… and a little shocking.

She pulled at Temari again, her smile spreading wider into a grin that proved to be infectious as Temari felt the corner of her mouth twitched in response.

"I am Kagome and you are Temari. You teach me how to be proper in public."

"I.. well… yes, I will" Proper in public… what a way to put it. But in her limited tongue, Temari supposed it was as true as it could get.

"Then… it's good to meet you," she inclined her head. "I look forward to your help."

From the back, a kunoichi, the one who commented on the Miko's lack of singing ability, let out a giggle snort.

"Ooh, no stumble. Smooth, Kagome-sama!" she commented. "She practiced that line for an entire afternoon you know, Temari-san? Said it would be embarrassing to stumble when thanking others."

"I worked hard," said the Miko in agreement. She was flushing again but there was a triumphant look on her face.

Maybe… Temari thought tentatively as she straightened herself… maybe she could do this after all. Maybe Oren was right and she was only overthinking things. There was no need for all that pressure. Temari felt herself easing, slowly slipping away from the nervous anxiety that had balled and built up at the back of her mind for the better part of last week.

"It's good to meet you, too," Temari responded, and was surprised to find she really meant it. This friendship that she was set out to create… it didn't have to be fake or forced did it? A person like this Miko, this Kagome, she felt like she wouldn't mind having such a friend. Kagome, her name was Kagome. She hadn't noticed it when reading it out from the booklet but it was a nice name, a good name. Temari had no idea what it might mean in her original language but it rolled off the tongue quite , she wouldn't mind having a friend in Kagome at all.

Temari was so preoccupied with these thoughts that she almost missed the slight shift of Kagome's gaze to somewhere behind her. The sudden stiffening of Oren and the kunoichi however, she wouldn't have missed in a million years. Someone else had entered the heart grove. Someone that wasn't supposed to be here.

"Gaara-sama…" Oren spoke up from within the suddenly deathly quiet kunoichi crowd, her hands hanging by her thighs, fingers hovering over the handles of her hidden knives. "... what are you doing here?"

Gaara..!?

Temari snapped from shock, spinning around to where Kagome and the Kunoichi were directing their gaze, and there, standing at the place where the wooded footpath melted into the grassy carpet, stood her littlest brother. His eyes, framed by a shock of red hair made even more brilliant under the light of the morning desert sun, was fastened onto the Miko, a confused, agitated look on his face.

But this couldn't be. Gaara was supposed to be at the other end of the village right now and under the watch of not one but three squads of handlers. He shouldn't have been able to give all three of them the slip and sneaked into this place "Gaara!" Temari called out, meaning to demand the answers from him, but stopped. She had never been able to demand just about anything from Gaara when he didn't want it, and the Miko… Kagome, knew nothing about this. It would not do to scare her needlessly.

"Gaara-sama…" said Oren again, and this time, Temari could hear the edge coming slowly into her voice. At her back, two among the kunoichi had slipped silently into the trees. "... do not.. take.. another step."

* * *

**End Chapter 7 **

* * *

1\. I wanted to get to Gaara's part faster since his appearance marks the next phase of the story (where Kagome's ability to suppress the Biju makes an appearance) but also don't want to neglect Temari's character. Gaara may play a pivotal part in the plot but Temari is the eyes and mind through which we will all see Kagome from the Naruto-verse perspective. Yondaddy Kazekage's mind is a little too skewered up because of his own mentality to serve as an objective observer. Temari also serves as a way to showcase the complexity of Suna people's views regarding Kagome. Not all of them see her with the same awe, gratefulness and reverence mixture as shown in the last 2-3 chapters. Those who don't benefit much from her power, those whose stations and world views are shaken by her appearance, and even those of higher circles with a deeper understanding of kekkei genkai, will understandably see her quite differently compared to the normal Suna peasants whose lives have just been made a lot better by Kagome's grace.

2\. Time table. I put up a time table in chapter 2-3 but made a mistake I think, so here's an updated one to keep track of everyone's age. Right now, in this chapter:

Kagome: 17 years old (at the end of canon Inuyasha, she just hit 16 years old if you want to know where we are compared to canon Inuyasha)

Temari: 14 years old, 3 years younger than Kagome (she's 15-16 years old around the Chunin exam in canon Naruto)

Kankuro: 13 years old, 4 years younger than Kagome (he's 14-15 around Chunin exam)

Gaara: 11 years old, 6 years younger than Kagome (he's 12-13 around Chunin exam)

Rasa/Kazekage: 39 years old, 22 years older than Kagome (he's 40 years old around Chunin exam time, also when he died in canon Naruto). I'm not going to promise that he won't also kick the bucket this time around despite the different circumstances.

From chapter 1 to this chapter 7, around 10 months have passed. Kagome first appeared at the gate of Sunagakure around February. She spent 2 months in obscurity before being found by the ninja. By April, she was taken into custody by Kazekage and by mid April, beginning of May, her power started effecting the village in full scale (this is around the time she started growing entire farm fields).

We are currently 1 year away from Chunin exam time, also the time when the other villages start showing interest in the 'catalyst' that has been creating radical changes in Suna but that's a long way away yet.

3\. Looks like majority of readers prefer the canon name Rasa. So, from this chapter, Kazekage's name will be changed to the new canon one. I will gradually modify the previous chapters to keep his name the same and avoid disruption for the readers.

4\. Next chapter: "Maiden and Chimera".

5\. A fan asked me this question on my tumblr account Ask Sythe:

"In a crossover between your stories garden of the gods, book air, tis femina and cognates of heaven suppose the main characters dimensional trips switch destinations kagome lands in Mordor, ten tailed naruto wakes up in the northern water tribe, korra wakes up in the senju compound and hawke and her apostle allies arrive in suna. What happens to the characters and what effects to they have on there new homes in the long run?"

You can check the answer in my tumblr account. Warning, it has a little bit of spoiler material in it, but for the record, I love that question!

Also, I'm a little curious as to if anyone would like to read those stories (in compressed form) created by that question. So if you do, drop me a line in the review section and let me count how many say yay and how many say nay.

Enjoy yourself!

Sythe


	8. Chapter 8: Maiden and Chimera

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Beta: Michelle T.

**Chapter 8:**** Maiden and Chimera**

"_Cast me gently into morning, _

_For the night has been unkind. _

_Take me to a place so holy,_

_That I can wash this from my mind_

_The memory of choosing not to fight."_

_**\- Answer, Sarah McLachlan -**_

* * *

The clearing in the heart grove was quiet but for the sound of pained breathing coming from the boy child among them. Gaara, standing in the sunlit path, heedless of the warning in Oren's voice and in the ready poise of the Kunoichi before him, pinned a hateful gaze on the strange woman standing by his sister. The Miko that everyone had been talking about.

"You," he hissed through the veil of numbing pain in his skull. If he wanted, he needed only lift his finger to crush her to a pulp where she stood, but at the same time, he was inexplicably drawn, inexplicably pulled to this place, to her, as helpless as a gnat in the wind.

"Witch!" He hissed again, clutching his head in his hands. In the total silence, his voice carried like a trumpet's call.

"Gaara!" Temari yelled, her voice awash with fear and panic. "You shouldn't be here."

"Gaara-sama, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You are not meant to be here," said Oren, voice quiet but unyielding, the line of her shoulders pulled taut like a string. She had positioned herself in between her charge and the trembling jinchuuriki before them. Another kunoichi at her back had disappeared into the tree line.

"Gaara, please!" Temari tried again to diffuse the situation, eyes darting between Oren and her little brother. Oren had her orders, she knew, and regardless of who stood before her, whether it was an enemy ninja or the son of the Kazekage, she would cut him down without preamble. And if it meant protecting her charge, she would happily give her life. All of the kunoichi here would. Temari couldn't say she was all that close to Gaara, but he was her brother all the same, and out of all the members in their broken household, he at least would occasionally humor her requests.

But her pleas fell on deaf ears as the boy snapped at her, his eyes tinged with red. "Shut up, Temari!"

The moment the slur sprung free from his mouth, there was the impression of something snapping in the minute shifting of Oren's expression. _Oh no_, Temari thought mournfully in her head as she helplessly watched the formation of movements in the tiny adjustments of Oren's poise and in the stillness of the trees around them. She would aim not to stop an angry child, but to kill, for her life and the lives of all those in the clearing were on the line.

That was, until a hand wound itself around Oren's arm and a soft but firm voice called out. "Oren, no."

It was with shock that Temari stared at the Miko Kagome and her hand that clutched Oren's arm. Kagome, on the other hand, was not looking at either her protector nor Temari but the boy whose presence had started this entire ruckus.

"Your name is Gaara? Are you lost?" She asked, voice calm and even in the face of the Terror of Suna that it sounded shockingly jarring to Temari's ears. She reached out then, as if to beckon the boy towards her, but was stopped by her protector.

"Kagome-sama, you must not go near him. He's dangerous."

The Miko glanced at Oren, and there Temari saw, the flicker of something old and unfathomable in her eyes. For a split second she was no longer the easygoing flower girl a mere couple years older than Temari. For a split second, she was the Miko, the woman of inexplicable power and origin that had singlehandedly turned Suna on its head. But it passed, and as the Miko's eyes returned to her brother, her feature gained a haunting look that told of past loss.

"He's a child, Oren," she said softly, as if it explained her actions. She reached out to him again, her hand outstretched and a gentle look on her face, as if she expected her gesture to be returned in kind. "I will not.. turn away… any child that needs… help."

"Come," she beckoned.

There was a heartbeat of hesitation on all sides as both Oren and the kunoichi looked on in disbelief. And Gaara… Temari wasn't sure what she saw then in her little brother's face. Perhaps doubt, perhaps anger, but there was one thing she was sure of. He did move, towards the Miko's outstretched hand. Whether it was to take her hand or to crush it to with his sand, Temari would never know because in the next second, several things happened at once.

With a ripping sound that rent the silence, the gold collar her father put on the Miko tore from her neck and launched itself violently at Gaara, transforming mid flight into the sharp, wicked shape of a spear.

It collided with Gaara's barrier in a spray of sand and motion, eliciting shocked, furious cries from the boy and a single alarmed shout from Oren.

"Mei!" At the call, a kunoichi jumped forward, scooped up a surprised Miko in one swift motion and bolted away and out of the clearing in the precious few seconds the jinchuuriki boy's attention was lifted from her charge.

The Miko's basket was on the ground, having been jarred from the impact. Plump, ripe apples came tumbling from its hold in a red halo all over the ground.

Gaara gave a frustrated yell as the Miko was carried away before his eyes and by his forward poise, would have given chase if not for the gold collar—now switching through a myriad of shapes—in his way.

It had fallen down onto the ground and along with Oren, stood obstructing the path taken by the fleeing kunoichi. It settled finally into the form of a three legged creature, an eye springing from where its torso would be and stared at the fuming boy with obvious intent. Of course, thought Temari. Any gold in this village was an extension of her father's will. The collar was more than just a statement. It was surveillance and protection and now against his wayward son, a warning.

The gold creature had not drawn blood, but all present knew it was fully capable of doing so. After all, it was the Kazekage's gold that subdued the beast every time the vessel lost control. It was him and him alone that Gaara still feared above all else.

There was a tense moment where Temari sat shivering in the corner of the groove as the son glared at the creature of his father's will with undisguised fear and hatred. Then with a snarl, Gaara turned and fled from the grove.

* * *

Ever since the incident on her fifteenth birthday, Kagome had come to except that there was something not quite natural about her eyes, about the way she saw the world. The incident here, of course, being the whole falling down the well and back in time, being bitten by a centipede lady, meeting that dog eared boy, finding out she had been harboring a magical jewel of all things in her body, and then finding out that she was capable of seeing the light of that jewel on levels no one else had even been able to before—not even the woman who she was supposed to be the reincarnation of.

Yes, something not quite normal about her eyes.

In the beginning, it was only the light of the Shikon that drew her. Then, gradually as they traveled Feudal Japan, other things attracted her gaze. The light of a pure soul, the shadow of an evil spirit, the truth hidden behind illusions woven by malevolent beings. Kaede told her once that it was the mark of a powerful Miko to be able to perceive the true soul of things, and that was what Kagome was seeing, the same as Kikyo, the same as Midoriko, as the myth said.

The soul. For all things upon this earth and within it had a soul, had a spirit, had a will, had desires, and that was what she saw, felt, heard.

It's not your fleshly eyes that see them, it is your soul that perceives the world, said Kaede once, when they were still in the early phases of their journey, when she and the friends she had were still unfamiliar with the treachery and sorrows of the road and were yet ignorant of the nature of their true enemy.

That was all very grand, thought Kagome in reply then, but really that hardly mattered in the practical sense did it? She had always been a grounded girl who valued the little things in life. Even in the midst of their journey, in between battling terrible demons, rescuing beautiful princesses, and chasing a legendary jewel, she would not stop thinking about her life in the mundane future, her school, her studies, getting into college, getting a job, getting married maybe. Dreams of some vague soul land or fairy tales were all well and good of course, but life—real life no matter how… boring… was also important—was perhaps even more important, for it was the basis from which she drew her strength.

To Kaede, this might be the mark of a powerful Miko, but Kagome cared only that her eyes were useful and helped in keeping her friends safe. That was the one thing that mattered to her.

Eventually though, as her power grew and as they found the seal placed upon her since birth, she couldn't help but give way to vague wondering.

Then the seal on her power was broken. Then she had taken the Shikon back into her body and willingly fused with it, let it and her heart become one, let her soul become enshrouded with the spirits of the jewel. Then the world had become slightly different, more vibrant somehow, more joyful but also more sorrowful. Before long, she started to realize she was sensing, seeing the emotions and memories that lingered in the earth. Here, a soldier died and as life fled from him, he thought of his wife, of his children. His memories soaked the earth, his love, his regret. There, a couple shared their first kiss under the trees. The wood remembered the sweetness of their love. The leaves remembered their dream of a life shared, children, then old age and then perhaps death, hand in hand. The soil where a battle took place was pitch black with fear and hatred and regret, threaded over with the red gold veins of desire, hope, valor. The gallows of a village where they hung thieves and robbers and rapists and murderers seeped with oily death and dark fantasies of those newly departed, but amidst the putrid ooze were little stars that shone. Once, when she had been brave enough to touch one of the stars, the memories within had burst forth into her mind. The last thought of a hanged mind as the noose choked life from him.

_I really miss you ma. Wish I could go home and eat your rice pies again. I'm sorry, ma. I'm a bad son. If I coulda redo my life, I wouldn't make you cry so much. _

Beauty and ugliness intertwined in the flesh of the world, both terrible in their frightening intensity. It had been overwhelming before she learned to shut it away.

Her first few months in this new world, as she grieved for those who died, her vision was all but forgotten. Then, it had come back, slowly, tentatively, as she drew on more and more of herself to help the people of Sunagakure, until one day, she could feel that same vibrancy in the world again, albeit slightly more subdued now that she had learned to rein it in.

If she had to compare, there weren't a lot of differences between her home in Tokyo, the chaotic Feudal era of Japan, and this new land where the Sand village dwelt. There was that same intermingled beauty and ugliness, shadow and light. The people here were mostly as closed off or open as the ones in the other world, depending on whether they could keep their private emotions to themselves. Though they were capable of feats she had only seen performed by great youkai, their souls were human through and through.

If there was one thing this world lacked, it was the twisting light of demon souls, twisting… but not always evil. Otherworldly spirits had a distinct feel about them, a vibration that broadcasted their arrival long before they came close. A few times she had felt them flitting about the villages and once even saw one up close—funnily enough, it was a desert eagle that could talk better than she did… and even knew how to flirt with bewildered human girls.

A ninja beast, Rasa-san had said. His, in fact, contracted via a sacred covenant held in the bloodline for generations.

But not youkai—at least, not the ones she had seen in her journey through the war torn Japan of ancient times. For a long time, Kagome labored under the impression that this world had no demons, the likes of which infested the Sengoku Jidai. A happy thing considering what she now harbored in her flesh. That was, until that boy stepped foot into the forest of fruit trees she had grown on the cliff hanging over the village, and his conjoined souls all but screamed for her attention.

At first, she hadn't even known it was a child. She had thought it a genuine demon, had frozen stiff while waiting for the teenager girl who was to be her tutor in the local etiquette. But… the soul of whatever that entity was felt strange, its vibration jerky, multi-layered. Its voices squabbled for attention over each other, one in hatred, one in pain and loneliness, one in sorrow. She had never seen anything like that before, not even in the Sengoku Jidai. She had thought it perhaps a half youkai, or a being created from the composite of many souls the way Naraku was. But it lacked that twisted nature, that hunger that signified the abyss where souls gave up themselves to birth a greater being of pure malevolence. Her curiosity peaked, she had reached out and tugged at it, prompting the surprised jerk that followed.

It—they yowled, whether in pain or fury she wasn't quite sure, but it had followed the direction of her voice and came seeking out whoever it was that had proverbially poked it in the head. When the boy stepped foot into the heart of the grove but an hour afterwards, stumbling in through the path Temari had taken before him, Kagome felt herself go cold, as if someone had dipped her to the top of her head into a vat of freezing water.

The boy was a chimera.

The soul of a near demon, an animal spirit driven to madness by hatred, was grafted onto the soul and body of a child. The stitching was clumsy, crude, their forced union painful and degenerative for both and if someone ever attempted to unravel the stitching, it would most likely mean instant death for the child. The near-demon, a tanuki, now that it beheld her in this close distance, knew it was in danger and it shrieked in fear and confusion. The boy, reacting to the tanuki's fear and the clearly unwelcoming tone of her companions, spitted and hissed and called her a witch, but Kagome's attention was riveted to the last part of his conjoined form, the third voice who murmured soothingly to the boy child and whose presence enshrouded him protectively.

The ghostly specter of a woman hung about him, eyes sad and quiet until she felt Kagome's gaze on her.

As Oren ordered the boy child to leave, their eyes met and no words needed be spoken.

The woman… no, the mother lingered on for love of her son. Not all of her, a specter, a shade, her will to see to the safety of her child. Three separate entities combined in one chimeric form. The child, whose name was Gaara if she heard Oren right, was a pitiful sight. But the nature of his existence twisted something and brought forth the darkest part of Kagome's heart.

Guilt, self loathing, despair, terror, envy.

He was her mirror image and to suddenly see his face and the face of his conjoined soul, so unstable that it was spilling from its fleshly vessel and becoming visible to her eyes, was to be rudely awakened from the sweet dreams of the Sandman's land. Just like her, this boy was born with a purpose determined for him by someone else and by this purpose, he shall be bound for life. His soul and flesh sewn and molded in the womb by hands not mother nature's... just like her.

She could hear the drumming sound of her heart beating in her ribcage, could feel her hands balling into fists as the memories of the wails of the dead and dying and the shadowed land littered with her footprints surged. Her eyes stung with the memories of tears shed in regret and despair.

As Oren commanded the boy to leave, she stood back and meant to keep herself from the drama unfolding, to turn a blind eye from the suffering child being driven away from her grove. Then the ghostly woman looked at her and mouthed for she had no voice.

_Please… please help… please help… my son... please…. _

The specter had the exotic features of the local, sun bleached hair and purple eyes on a fine bone face. Kagome recognized her, blinding in her smiles, from the glittering memories of Rasa, a beloved wife and dearly missed mother. She held her son in her arms as she pinned Kagome with pleading eyes. The look of mothers desperately protecting their children, on the other hand, was universal. Abruptly, Kagome thought of her own mother, Mama Higurashi. Soft spoken housekeeper that she was, she had a sturdiness and tenacity that showed in no part of her softly domestic appearance. She could, without batting an eyelash, receive the news that her daughter would be gallivanting the war torn Japan of 500 years pass in the company of a half demon, a demon child, a demon exterminator and a perverted monk, and at the end of the day, when said daughter returned to her for the warmth of home and hearth, could embrace her without fear and asked what she would like for dinner.

They had parted without proper goodbyes and now that she saw her reflection in another woman, another mother, Kagome was suddenly keenly aware of how much she missed her own.

Before she knew it, her hand had already found its way around Oren's arm, stopping the woman from lashing out against that poor child. She was shaking so badly but the billowing cut of her clothes hid it well. Her heart fluttered, floated, swooped in her hollow inside as the ghostly matron glowed triumphantly in renewed hope.

"Oren… no."

* * *

In hindsight, it probably was better that her guardians spirited her away before the chimeric child did something the both of them would later on regret. Despite appearances, she knew he couldn't do a thing to harm her, not with that near demon spirit stitched to him like that. The reverse however was entirely possible considering the agitated state Kagome was in, and wouldn't that be a terrible thing to happen? Especially since she would be able to see, the instant that it happened, the reaction of a newly bereaved mother.

Mei took her back to the temple. As she passed the gate, she whistled a sharp note that summoned even more sand warriors and warrioresses from the shadow of the village to stand guard at the gate.

Three hours later, she was glad to see Oren and the others back and without visible harm on their bodies.

"Oren," called out Kagome in her shaky common tongue. She had never done anything like this before, nor asked for anything not already given to her by the Sand people. "I need… to see Rasa-san."

He didn't come until much later, earlier than the usual time yes, but not until the sun had gone down, until it was but a strip of light through the great windows in the temple walls. He was cold and hard and closed off again, like the first time she met him. And he seemed to be remembering the same as his eyes quested about her face in search of something.

"Oren said you wanted to see me," he said finally, taking slow steps until he was in front of her. In his hand was the shifting gold that had torn itself from her neck earlier. He was absentmindedly pulling, twisting, shaping it into a dainty collar form composed of stars and moons and the swirling vines of the night wind.

"I do."

"Why?" The collar floated from his hand, stretched, embraced the column of her neck, its ends connecting into a seamless circle at her nape.

"That boy, your son, Gaara…" If she hadn't been watching every line on his face, she wouldn't have seen the flinch that flashed by in the blink of an eye. "I need to… I need to see him. Please let me see him."

* * *

**End Chapter 8**

* * *

1\. I took pity on all the people wailing about the unfairness of the cliffhanger of last chapter. Don't expect future chapters to be out so quick. I'm still contracted to write articles for my magazine and a book for my celebrity client.

2\. So, Gaara and Kagome meet finally, but not really. They didn't get to interact much did they? Well, they will see each other again soon enough because…

3\. Next chapter: The Jinchuuriki of Sunagakure goes demon in the middle of a market square, prompting a certain Miko to attempt a jailbreak to come help him out. Yondaime Kazekage arrives on the scene to see Shukaku being suppressed by the last person he expects to be there. And the council have questions regarding the specifics of the Miko's power.

4\. So we see a little explanation on the basis of Kagome's power in this chapter. Thoughts?

5\. On the topic of Kagome's characterization. I've received several concerned feedbacks that the Kagome of FTGG feels like the generic damsel in distress with a hint of hidden strength, and that compared to the complexity of characters like Rasa the 4th Kazekage and the world building itself, she appears rather bland.

Well, these feedbacks are spot on, I think. However, in my defense, how Kagome appears so far is by conscious design. The Kagome we've seen in the previous chapters (from chapter 5 to 7) are mostly seen from the perspective of people who don't actually know her that well, partly from not being able to effectively communicate with her on deep levels and partly because they haven't known her for that long.

In this chapter, we get to see a little more of her thoughts, her emotions, and hints of what happened that led to her being in this world in the first place. We also get to see that she does not actually help Suna purely from the goodness of her heart. There's a little fantasy living in there, a little passive hubris, also a desire to put the past behind her. It's all very subtle of course.

I remember in the first chapter I said I wanted to write a story about a character who is strong without being a fighter, who forces change without the use of violence, and who, by surrendering, actually wins the war. Well, I'm still very much on track with that, and that character to me is Kagome.

The tricky part to writing such characters however, is that too often does kindness get taken for foolishness, and compassion for naivety. The lines are understandably blurred, even in our real world. An act of kindness can be easily interpreted as stupidity, mercy as weakness.

The nature of writing such characters is that always, the reader's perception plays a huge part in the characterization itself. As I wrote Kagome (a hard character to get right since her nuances are even more subtle and too easily mistaken for Purity Sue type. But she ain't pure let me tell you that. She is human, with all the faults that entails), I intentionally shape her in such a way that her character is also (to a degree) open to interpretation.

In the same way that I invited you all to interpret Rasa the 4th Kazekage in your personal perspective, I now also invite you to do the same to Kagome, to scrutinize her every move and every thought and attempt to see past the veneer of the goody two-shoes girl that the Sand people see (or not, considering characters like Oren and Rasa do not fully buy her faultless and thoughtlessly kind personality).

6\. Two hints for you regarding the characterization of Kagome. One, the opening poem of this chapter is taken from the song Answer by Sarah McLachlan. There's a reason I used those lyrics specifically. Two, I use a lot of vocal-free music as a compass to write Kagome. Out of those, there are two songs that I often listen to while writing Kagome in order to remember the duality of her character. They are:

Song of Saya 2 from the game Saya no Uta (track 6, I think). Alternatively you can also check out Song of Saya 1 (track 5) but thematically Song of Saya 2 is the superior one.

Jellyfish Song from the game Dramatical Murder (the game version, not the anime one. If you hear strings at the beginning, it's the wrong version. The game version begins with an ethereal wail).

A climax near the end of From the Garden of Gods is written to 'Silent Sorrow', also from Saya no Uta.

Enjoy your weekend! Let me know your thoughts and predictions regarding Kagome, her character, and what her relationship with Gaara will be like. We are now officially into the next phase of the story.

\- Sythe


	9. Chapter 9: Jailbreak 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Beta: Michelle T.

**Chapter 9: Jailbreak 1**

* * *

Two weeks before the end of the year and the New Year Maharra, the Go-Ikenban—Suna's Honored Council—converged in a meeting to recount the happenings of the past year, both the good and the bad. To ensure that all voices within their society would be heard, members of the Go-Ikenban came from all forces and sectors of the village—from its military arm and governing administration, to its more civilian slanted industrial production force. Including the reigning Kazekage, there were thirteen of them, and today, in a rare occurrence that spoke of the good year they had had, they were content with the village's performance.

Rasa sat in his seat at the head of the round table, in the shade of the Kazekage statues, and listened without contributing much to the cheerful chatter of his advisors.

"Accounting is quite happy at the end of this month," said Sajo from the village administration. "I think they were actually considering a budget expansion for next year."

"Can you blame them? We've never been so flushed with resources before," Goza chipped in. "Now that we no longer have to import our food supply, more than half of our financial funds are freed up for other tasks."

"Funds which you and your boys pounced on, Goza. The rest of us barely even see any of that excess money," another member of the Go-Ikenban complained to Goza who directed and spearheaded the village's industrial development. His complaint held no heat however, and was instead delivered with a largely good-natured smile. "How's our metal production expansion going?"

"Better than great!" Goza boasted. "Our deepground mineral deposits have always been as good if not better than the mountains of Kumogakure. With our magnet release bloodline, we've always had the capacity for much larger production of metal. Now that my boys are better funded, we can finally produce the quality and quantity of metal we were meant to. If things go as plan, we will be able to break Kumogakure's monopoly of Tungsten and Silicon-manganese steel. We will no longer have to contend with selling cheap irons and overworking our honored Kazekage's gold-mining ability to fund the village."

Thumbing his chest boisterously, Goza declared. "Ryusa, your weapon R&amp;D labs must be salivating at all the toys they will be able to build with my steel."

"I will not deny that my people are… excited at the prospects," replied Ryusa. "But more importantly, how is our fledgling agriculture, Joseki." Then to himself he mumbled. "I still can't believe we have farmers now… in this desert land." Though he said this quietly, the chamber acoustics carried his voice.

"I never thought I would see the day either, Ryusa," said Joseki, the oldest member of the Go-Ikenban, whose water-wielding clan managed the aquifer of the village and coincidentally the single Go-Ikenban member overseeing the village food supply before _**and**_ after the appearance of the Miko. Threading his hands together in front of him, Joseki slowly started.

"I doubt anyone in this room imagined we would ever see a field of green embracing our beloved village and our people fed with the bounty of our earth. But that…" he paused for emphasis. "... is just one more reason to rejoice isn't it?"

His statement was met with nods of approval.

"To answer your question, Ryusa," Joseki continued. "Our fields are green and our people fed. Our food reserves have long since been filled pass their capacity. And we have only just started." Gesturing at the papers in front of him and the other members of the Go-Ikenban, Joseki stated. "If—hypothetically speaking—tomorrow all of our crops die and the international food market collapses, we would still have enough in our reserves to keep our people well fed for at least a decade… provided nothing is sabotaged of course. We are sourcing civilians to staff our farming forces. Last I heard, they are quite happy to be called the first generation of Sunagakure farmers. Consider it an honor even. We still have active shinobi overseeing key parts of our production, but at this rate, I think we will soon be able to spare our men for other sectors more in need of human resources. And no, Goza, you don't get my boys. You already got the money, leave them to Yura and Ryusa. They will both need new blood in their teams to bolster military assets and village security. As for our reforestation project…" Joseki paused, took a gulp from his tea cup.

"It will be a while yet for our oasification efforts to bear fruits, but at the moment we have a self-sustaining flora belt surrounding the village. The degradation of the soil underneath and surrounding the main body of the village has stopped. With sufficient time, I believe further hydrologic efforts will be able to reverse the degradation of our soil."

"How long do you think that would take? Reversing the degradation, I mean," asked a fellow member of the Go-Ikenban.

"An exact timeline would be tricky considering this is the first time we even got this far, but… an educated guess for the area under and surrounding the village... I would say fifty years until we see soil that can sustain itself without the Miko's active participation. With her power, there really is no saying. We simply do not know the full extent of it yet."

There was momentary quiet in the chamber as each members contemplated the number brought forward by Joseki. Fifty years, half a century, about twenty years longer than the expected lifespan of their active shinobi. It might seem a long time for a civilian of other countries, but here in the land of the great desert, fifty years to see living land was nothing short of a miracle. To see living land, period, was once a pipe dream to most of them.

"And how is our little Miko doing, Kazekage-sama?" Asked Goza, looking more upbeat than Rasa had ever seen him in five years. The question brought forth the scene from the last time he had seen the Miko.

_She looked unharmed, but wore an expression more suitable on the face of a war veteran. Such a stark countenance was ill-fitting on the soft curves of her face, he thought. If Rasa needed proof of the Miko's less than picture perfect past, this moment would be it. No mere civilian girl would be able to effect such a hauntingly sorrowful look on her face. Not after meeting Gaara. _

"_I have never asked you for anything," she said quietly but firmly." I will ask... only for this. Let me… see… your son." _

_For a second he faltered. It must be the lighting in her chamber but for a heartbeat he thought he saw Ka… _

"Fine," he replied, shutting the thought away. "She's doing fine." The Go-Ikenban needed not bother itself with the incident between Gaara and the Miko. It would not happen again. He would never let Gaara within fifty steps of the Miko. Gaara was his mistake, his responsibility, and he would never let another pay for it if he had a say in it.

"I heard she can speak now." A member of the Go-Ikenban chimed in. Within this chamber, the Miko's origin… or lack there of… was common knowledge. Outside of it however, he let the rumors run rampant. The more fantastical—and as a result, the further from the truth—the story, the better.

"Enough for basic conversations," he concurred. "How to ask what is what and where is where and to let her handlers know if she needs anything or is hurting anywhere."

"Enough to leave her ivory tower and actually talk to her adoring masses perhaps?"

He crossed his hands. "That would be a while yet."

His curt statement prompted laughter from some of the Go-Ikenban.

"He's worse than a father with a particularly pretty teenage daughter. Kazekage-sama, you do know you will have to let her out eventually? Or the newly rendered unemployed food merchants may actually be able to prove that you really do keep her shut in against her wishes. Considering how young the girl is, I imagine she must be feeling quite cramped already. My Ume at her age was just bucking at the reins. Why, I used to catch her sneaking out from her third floor bedroom window to go meet some boys all the time! Drove her mother up the wall that one."

Rasa himself was actually a father with a particularly lovely teenage daughter, but he could trust Temari to be fully capable of handling herself. The teenage Miko on the other hand…

"Leave him be, Goza," Joseki cut in. "Kazekage-sama is right to be cautious. The Miko is no ordinary young girl. We wouldn't want her introduced to the public before she and we are truly ready. Besides, it is already decided that the Miko will make her first public appearance in the coming Maharra festival. That ought to satisfy the people of the village."

Nodding in approval, Rasa turned to address the rest of the Go-Ikenban. "We have refrained from exporting the surplus agricultural products to allay attention from other countries. As far as the other hidden villages are concerned, Sunagakure either had a good year or had discovered a new water ninjutsu technique that allowed for hydroponics even in our extremely arid condition. However, their ignorance will not last long. Sooner or later, they will know something drastic has changed within our village. Our entry as a seller and not buyer in the international food market coupled with our rising industrial production and possible breaking of Kumogakure's monopoly on military grade steel will be nothing short of a declaration of cold war."

He could name, off the top of his head, more than a dozen veterans of the old wars who would get real nervous once news of a strengthening Sunagakure reached their ears. The aftermath of the Third Secret World War had left Suna as the loser and the weakest of the five Great Hidden Villages. Their shinobis, while just as capable as any other shinobi of the other Great Four, suffered from a lack of foundational resources and war assets. Their economy, which had always been lackluster since the founding of the village, took a nosedive to tether on the brink of recession. To have a single village being the clear underdog within the Great Five was a situation that many preferred as it maintained a clear power balance that prevented another great war from happening... as well as opened Sunagakure up to foreign exploitations. Not a few countries had profited from Sunagakure's precarious economy and ailing war potential for the last ten years, their esteemed ally Konohagakure included. Rasa vowed to himself that this shall be the last time he let them do as they liked to his beloved village.

"When that happens," he continued, voice slow and quiet but unyielding, "and it will happen. We will be ready for it." At once, the Go-Ikenban nodded in agreement, wordlessly signing a concord between them all to see their village prosper as it should be.

"Well, gentlemen, shall we continue onto the next item in the agenda?" Joseki segued smoothly, not wasting a second of their meeting. "The southern border reported activities in Oto no Kuni. It seems a new hidden village has formed under the name of Sound. The village hidden in…"

Joseki's report was cut short when the door to the chamber slammed open and a jounin that Rasa recognized as part of the village quick response security force rushed in.

"Kazekage-sama…" The newly appeared shinobi spoke quietly but there was no masking the urgency in his voice. "It's Gaara-sama…"

Rasa was already up and out of his seat before the shinobi could finish his sentence.

"In the central market square. He's lost control!"

* * *

Kagome already knew it was going to happen before it even started. The boy had been jittery for hours. The vibration of his grafted, mutilated soul, was a discordant sound to her senses. She was in the garden by the old Homeless Shelter—now a newly reopened orphanage—weeding the roots of pomegranate and apple trees she grew for the children when the sound jumped an octave and she felt more than heard the stitching in his soul straining, one part fighting for dominance at the other's expense.

It was a terrible sound. Half scream of rage, half cry of terror and pain. She heard the ghostly mother attempting to hold the demonic spirit at bay. Her efforts were in vain. The spirit was clearly the stronger of the two. The whimpering of the child drowned in the cacophony of their frantic fight.

'Mother,' she heard him whimpered in pain and confusion. 'Please don't hurt me, mother. Please...'

Kagome's hands trembled despite her best effort.

"Something wrong, onee-san?" asked the girl orphan by her side. "You look really pale." Her remark drew the attention of the orphan children who had accompanied her into the garden and at once Kagome was suddenly surrounded by concerned children of varying sizes and ages.

Oren appeared in a heartbeat, drawn by the twittering crowd. She took one look at Kagome's face before approaching her.

"What's wrong, Kagome-sama?" She took her hands. "Your hands are cold. You're sweating." Oren must have seen something she really didn't like for, she didn't wait for Kagome's answer before turning around to give a barking command.

"Mei, Yuhi, we're leaving. Mokoto, Aiki, clear a path for us. Midori, get the doctor to Kagome-sama's room."

"Oren, you are scaring the children," said Kagome.

"They are ninja children. They'll be fine," replied Oren curtly as she pulled Kagome to the garden gate.

"Please, there's no need for... for... fussing. I stood too long under the sun. I'm sure... I'll be fine. Besides, I'm not done with the garden yet."

Oren turned to look at her, and in a soft voice, she responded. "Kagome-sama's welfare is our top priority. We don't know if it's serious or not. We can come back another day."

"Oren, please. I haven't been out of the temple for a week." Not since the incident when she met the boy. Apparently the Shadow of the Wind did not take well to her plea. He had not said a word in response except for a stern "no" and when she pressed for answer had only replied with "You do not know what you ask for. Do not seek him out."

"We can go into the orphanage. They have rooms. You can bring doctor to me. Then he tell you I'm fine," she tried again, dragging at Oren's arm. The warrioress turned around to face her. Before Oren could make her decision however, a great crashing sound came in from the streets, then the yells of panicking people and the sound of a thousand feet running in every direction.

"It's Shukaku! He's gone crazy again!" somebody screamed. His voice carried through the streets and into the garden where they stood, prompting a dozen startled shrieks in reply.

"Taichou! The road is blocked," Motoko and Aiki reported as they came back in, the both of them looking harried. "Too many panicking civilians. It's a stampede out there. He went Shukaku in the market square."

In late noon no less, when the sun and heat had lessened in intensity and the markets and streets were at their most crowded. It went without saying then that they weren't going back to the temple, not with that road block and a demon boy rampaging in the village downtown area.

Befitting of her position as captain of the team, Oren did not waste a single second in indecision. "Mei, Yuhi, go with Kagome-sama into the orphanage inner sanctum," she commanded as she drew a slender scroll from her hip pouch, then unfurled it. "The rest of you come with me. We are erecting a perimeter around this orphanage. No one comes in. No one goes out. Not while I still stand."

A few quick hand gestures and the scroll went up in smoke. In its place a long roll of plain white cloth. "Move it, ladies!"

Distantly, a bestial roar shook the village. The sand at their feet swirled, agitated. In her ears, Kagome heard the cries of a panicking child.

"Kagome-san, let's go," Mei pulled at her hand while Yuhi rounded up the kids. It was a good thing the garden was connected to the orphanage through a door and a short corridor because over the sturdy fence they could hear and see the chaos of a thousand terrified people fleeing the center of the village. These children, some as young as three or two years old, wouldn't have made it out of there with the stampede going on. Taking two of the youngest into her arms and getting the other younger children to hold onto her sleeves, Kagome let Yuhi led the way while Mei brought up the rear. The minute the last child, a boy near into his teenage years, crossed the threshold, Mei dead-bolted the door and pulled down reinforced steel shutters normally only reserved for bad sandstorms.

"Keep going," Yuhi urged them forward from the front. "We'll stop at the inner hall."

"Oren and the others are still outside!"

"They'll be fine, Kagome-san. Taichou is a ranked barrier specialist. If she's manning the perimeter, nobody's going to get in."

As if proving Yuhi's statement, Kagome's senses tingled in response as a barrier like nothing she had ever felt before sprung up around the building. It was not at all like Kaede or Miroku's holy spirit barrier. It didn't have the strength of Shiori's Blood Corral Crystal barrier, nor did it have the repugnant air of Naraku's youki fuelled barrier. Rather, it was something in between mixed with something else entirely. That electric spark that ran through the bodies of all Sand warriors. But there was no time to contemplate Oren's barrier as Yuhi pulled her and the orphan children away from the door and deeper into the orphanage. Mei followed closed behind them, bringing up the rear. Everytime they passed a threshold she would linger behind for a few minutes to bolt the doors shut. Finally, they found themselves in the mess hall where they used to feed the residents of the old homeless shelter.

Kagome put the two young children on her arms down on a wrought iron long table as she swept her gaze over the tiny heads around her.

"Is everyone here?" she asked the children closest to her. "No one is left outside right?"

"Chomei has classes at the academy today," a little girl with a headful of red hair mumbled through her hands. "Some other older kids too." She was trying hard to hold back her tears. "Mama matron too. She went to… to the market… to get us food…" Her voice broke then as she suddenly realized what that meant. Without even trying, Kagome could feel black terror muting the light of her childish spirit. She opened her arms, took the girl in and hushed her with the handful of soothing words she knew.

The redheaded girl was not the only frightened child. Fear hung like a dark shroud over the children's heads, like the smoke of a burning fire. She could hear some children, young ones no older than six, sobbing at the back. The long sleeves of her dress was pulled taut with the many tiny fists clutching at them. If these weren't orphans, thought Kagome, she was sure more than a few of them would have already started calling for moms and dads.

"We can't go back out now," said Mei, tactfully not mentioning the orphanage matron. "If they have classes at the academy, they should be fine. The teachers there know what to do when Shukaku awakes."

Just as soon as the words left her mouth, a great racket sounded down the hallway. The noise, like metal banging against each other, reverberated through the stucco made building.

"Shit! What was that?" Mei jumped to the front, pushing the children behind her back as she drew a dagger from her thigh sheath.

"Something might have gotten in before taichou got the barrier up," said Yuhi. "This building is big. The back is built into the canyon walls. If I'm not wrong, they used to have lots of tunnels here for emergency evacuation."

A beat of silence transpired between the two kunoichi before Mei spoke up again. "I'll go check." And then without waiting for her partner's response, she darted out of the mess hall and disappeared into the shadow, leaving behind a single kunoichi, her priestess ward, and roughly two hundred frightened children. Yuhi closed the door after Mei before turning around to face her charge.

"Kagome-san… you don't look good," she said as she cast a worried look in Kagome's direction.

No, Kagome supposed she was not looking her best, not while that terrible, grinding sound was snaking its way through her head. The boy-child, Gaara, was still screaming. The demonic spirit was still roaring, and the mother still fighting. A wordless, soundless, sightless battle whose single witness was her and her alone.

"You're sweating," said Yuhi as she stepped closer, laid a hand across the miko's brow, her young face stark with concern.

"I'm fine, Yuhi. Don't worry." Her attempt to placate the kunoichi only got her a doubtful look. "I think… some kids were hurt when we came in. Can you… check up on them?"

The kunoichi didn't budge an inch, instead she drilled Kagome with a wordlessly worried gaze. "Yuhi… I'm not… going anywhere. I'm right here. Please... I just… need a moment."

The kunoichi went still for a moment, her dark blue eyes betraying nothing, before finally, reluctantly she nodded. "I'll be right over there. If you need anything..."

"I'll call," said Kagome as she gently pushed Yuhi towards the back where the younger orphans huddled. As soon as the kunoichi was out of earshot, Kagome sighed, closed her eyes and concentrated. Her head hurt. They were screaming too loudly, the chimeric boy and the dozens of sand warriors that now surrounded him in obvious battle.

Her ears hurt. Even deep in the orphanage, they could still hear the thunderous roars of the rampaging demon and felt the earth under their feet quaking.

Kagome sensed the boy coming apart at the seams, his soul too young, too small, too damaged to contain the full fury of a spirit gone mad. He shone red like the sun in the dark of her closed eyes, radiating pain and terror and confusion. It was a frightening thing to sense. Kagome had only ever felt the same kind of unceasing agony in men dying at war, dying by treachery, dying with regrets, with their dreams dead and their hearts shattered. It was almost too much.

She didn't even know how badly she was shaking until tiny hands touched the feverish skin of her cheeks and drew her away from the suffering chimeric boy. When Kagome opened her eyes, it was to the sight of tiny faces surrounding her and staring at her in childish worry.

"Don't be afraid, onee-san," said the redheaded girl who, just a moment ago, was sobbing in her hold. "Gaara is really scary, yeah. But Lord Kazekage is strong. He'll save us. You'll see."

* * *

**Chapter 9 to be continued...**

* * *

1\. This is only the first half of chapter 9, which proved a bit longer than planned. Since I don't have a lot of free time this month between three magazine articles and two biography books, I figured I should just upload this first half now. I have no idea when I'll have the free time to write the second half, and letting readers wait while I already have around the same length of a normal chapter (4000 words) is a little mean… so yeah. Here's to hoping the second part of Jailbreak happens soon.

2\. Sunagakure's unique geology is based on real world desert-bound city states like Abu Dhabi and Arabian desert-based cities. Not much in terms of agricultural or traditional production but their soil is typically rich with minerals and metals and oil deposits and the vast desert provides a place perfectly suited for military testing (i.e. in Canon Naruto that would be the testing of the 4th Kazekage's jutsu development). I'm not so sure about the worth of oil and gas in Narutoverse but metals and minerals are vital components to industrial and military trades. This chapter stays faithful to Sunagakure's stats in the Data Books. Sunagakure has the weakest economy within the Great Five (two out of five scores whereas Kumogakure has the highest economy score) and average score in terms of war potential. After the Third Shinobi World War, because of its status as the loser, many sanctions and bans were placed on Sunagakure, eventually leading to the Fourth Kazekage attempting to weaponize their Bijuu.

Imagine Sunagakure as your typical OPEC nation in a world where oil and gas doesn't mean a whole lot and they are left with a cripplingly weak infrastructure economy (vital products like food, water, etc…) and an over abundance of resources that are rare in other countries (minerals, metals, gold, etc…). This unique geography and political makeup forces Sunagakure into selling their resources for cheap (in canon, that would be their trading of the Fourth Kazekage's gold dust. I also added in the trading of cheap irons in this story which I imagine they would need a lot of considering the staggering amount of shurikens we see thrown around in canon. Those can't all be made from expensive tungsten carbide now can they?) to stabilize their basic infrastructure. Their system is a delicate one that needs a lot of surveillance.

We'll touch more on that when Jiraiya makes an appearance in the story (strange activities in Sunagakure draws his attention).

3\. The Go-Ikenban is canon Naruto with 13 members including the Kazekage. All members mentioned thus far are canon ones as well, though in canon we only get to know their names and like a tiny bit of information about them. And yes, Yura the betrayer is in here too.

4\. In the next half of the chapter, we will see Kagome's attempt at jailbreak and her confrontation with Shukaku. Sunagakure gets to witness her priestess power and the Go-Ikenban demand that their questions be answered.

5\. Did nobody check out the dark half of Kagome's character defining songs? Song of Saya 2 from Saya no Uta. Because if somebody did they would have immediately raised some flags as to the song's… disturbing melody. I'm sad… +sad face+

6\. To answer that questions that more than twenty reviewers have been hounding me about. The romance aspect of the story will be made clear at the end of this arc, sometime after Chuunin Exams / Konoha Invasion. When that happens, I will change the character information of the story. Now stop hounding me about it. You don't want the story spoiled, do you?

7\. This one here is something work related. It's.. uh... a job ad. A job ad for young writer. It's a little weird to be posting one in the AN section of a fanfic but hear me out (it's totally legit, I swear). I'm the senior writer of a book writing team based in Hochiminh City, Vietnam. We mainly handle celebrity biography books, magazine articles, historical research, heirloom books, etc... (very little creative fiction if at all). Everything is in English as the main language. We also write in several other languages including Vietnamese, Mandarin Chinese, French, etc... All of our writers and editorial staffs are at least bilingual (my boss who is also my editorial partner speaks four languages fluently). We are currently looking for new members to our team. If you are in Hochiminh City, can write in English, and wants to pursue a full-time professional career in writing, contact me. Also, Michael (you know who you are), if you are by any chance reading this (which means you are a stalker to stalks your lead writer's favorite past time), you don't pay me enough to do free marketing for your company. Next time we go out, you are paying and I'm going to eat. A. LOT! Marks my words.

Anywho, I hope you enjoy the story. See you all next time.

Sythe


	10. Chapter 9: Jailbreak 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Beta: Michelle T.

**Chapter 9: Jailbreak 2**

* * *

Will he now?

Came the thought in Kagome's head the instant those words came out the little girl's mouth. She meant well, Kagome knew, but this was not the first nor would it be the last time when Kagome felt doubt in her guardian, the chief of the Sand people village, Rasa.

When they talked for the first time after meeting Gaara, her first instinct was a niggling question. What sort of a father would let something like that happen to his own child? What adult would let a child suffer so? That boy whose soul was so grotesquely mutilated was without a doubt of Rasa's blood. They had the same hair, the same face, the same lean and wiry build, and the same eyes that when agitated, would lit up like the eyes of some great cat. The features on the son were only separated from the father's by a magnitude of years and experience. Kagome had seen both the boy and the mother, for a split second, in the memories of his father.

But as soon as the thought occurred to her, she would remind herself that she didn't know the whole story. She could barely speak the Sand people's language at it was, and knew but a handful of facts about their culture. She had no right to judge anything or anyone in this land.

The boy's chimeric soul was obviously an artificial construction, but she didn't know how or why it had come to be. She had never seen anything like it before. Not even Naraku's soul was as viscerally divided; more tainted yes, but the parts when merged together was still united under a single will. It could be a curse, or the aftermath of a magical accident, or the result of some malicious soul disease whose cure the father was working on… if there was one.

The point was: she didn't know the full story and the world and people both were complicated things that should never be judged on first looks alone… even when Kagome could literally gaze into the true self of all living things if she really wanted to.

It was the same as when she was journeying across the Sengoku Jidai. The history book mentioned it, but not until Kagome happened across a village after the raid of a wandering army in the beginning of her journey... did she realize the brutality and horror of the era. It was the bloodiest age of Japanese history. For a hundred and thirty-six years, war and chaos raged across a land whose throne lay empty. As the lords, daimyos, and samurai measured the depth of their ambition and ruthlessness in blood and death, the little people suffered.

Life in the Segoku Jidai was nothing at all like the life as Kagome knew of until then.

Of that first village she happened upon, only three people survived. A woman and her two nephews, all three of them near naked and sitting by the embers of their ruined house. As she patched them up with the supplies from her first aid kit, Kagome chattered on to draw them from the trauma of the experience. It didn't take until she shared her lunch with them for the woman to start talking, in a quiet, muted voice, of what she wanted to do.

She wanted to send her boys to the neighboring lord's army, she said. Where they would be fed and taught how to hold a spear and maybe allowed to become the servants of some soldiers of meager rank.

Kagome had been horrified then. Those boys didn't look a day older than nine. They had endured such tragedy and now their aunt wanted to send the both of them into the neighboring lord's army? Where they didn't have a qualm about throwing children into the fray? Wouldn't they be better off staying together?

She never understood why the woman would even consider the option until Kaede, once Kagome returned to her village, explained to her the rationale behind the aunt's decision. Left alone and with nothing to their name, those three wouldn't have lasted the winter. If they didn't die from starvation, disease, bandits, slavers, or the wild beasts and flesh eating demons that roamed the land, then the cold of the coming winter would still have picked them off with absolute certainty.

Few villages would open their doors to them, not with the taint of death and disaster clinging to their skin and hair. Even if they were lucky enough to find those few that would, life would still be difficult. In those times, a household with no man in it opened itself up to all sorts of abuses. The bruises and marks on the aunt's near naked body when Kagome discovered them were a testament to that.

In contrast, a life in a lord's army, while hard, would still give them the certainty of food on the table and clothes on their back and while that might seem trivial to Kagome—said Kaede softly, patiently, in the voice she used when speaking to young children—that would already have been many times more than what the young aunt could give her nephews herself. As for the prospect of death, well, everybody died eventually. Death, in the time of war and strife, was a close and old friend.

In this land, said Kaede, people lived and died like the wild grass that grew by the side of the road, quickly and thoughtlessly, making the most of what was given them. Life was not ideal, but it went on. And if their choices appeared ill thought-out to Kagome—who by that time had had the luck of a privileged life devoid of heartbreak and tragedy in a land as good as heaven to these people—then really it was through no fault of theirs. It was merely how the world was in those days, and if she was to judge them based on the standards of her privileged life and idealistic world, then it would have been judgement made without thought and consideration for the world she now inhabited.

To be quick to judge was the mark of the young, said Kaede, and while Kagome had all rights to the fallacy of youth at only fifteen years old, it probably would do her a world of good to be mindful of the differences of her world and their world and the limitations of her own youth.

In the blink of an eye, she had been filled with shame then for not having realized that simple truth sooner. There was no sense in judging the people of another world by the standard of her own, no sense in holding the same expectations on a land not her own. It was a lesson that served to keep her grounded throughout her year-long journey through the fantastical land of Japan five hundred years before her time, where demons hid in the skin of unfortunate princesses and madmen cannibalized their way to demi-godhood.

It was the same story here, with Rasa and his son… or was it?

Kagome sat down on the bench by the long table and looked at all the children surrounding her, and with care and deliberate slowness, fielded her question.

"How... will Lord Kazekage... save us?" The adults and the warrioresses would not give straight answers to her stumbling questions regarding the boy Gaara. Perhaps in these children she would get her answers at last.

"He's strong! The strongest warrior of the village!" a young boy with wire rim glasses on the bridge of his nose jumped to the answer. "He'll beat the Shukaku to a pulp!"

"Shukaku?" Kagome repeated the strange name.

"Shukaku is the big demon," a girl in blue shorts provided.

Demon? Did they mean the tanuki spirit grafted to the boy's soul?

"Beat Shukaku? How?" If Rasa possessed a power that could combat a bodiless spirit, then Kagome had never sensed nor seen it in action.

"Yeah! With his gold tsunami! I know somebody who has seen it once. He does it like this!" The wire-rim glass boy demonstrated excitedly with his hands. "And the sand dust goes like _swoosh_ and make a big wave, and then he pulls his hands and the big wave goes on top of the demon, who goes squished under all that gold." The boy nudged the bridge of his glass with one hand, primly stating. "Gold is very heavy you know. And Lord Kazekage can command all the gold in the earth."

"That…" Kagome started, "But… that would hurt Gaara…" Surely that was not the way he would go about it? The boy was attached to the spirit and to harm the body of one was to harm the body of the other. She wasn't sure how such a messy stitching of the souls could be unravelled but it most certainly could not be done the way the wire-rim glasses boy was talking about. She looked at the older children, expecting one of them to come forward with a more sensible explanation, but to her surprise, no such thing happened. Instead, the older kids nodded as if what the wire-rim glass boy said made perfect sense to them.

"Who cares about Gaara?" said one boy with a bow cut, with undisguised callousness in his voice. "Nobody would care if he gets hurt… or dies." To Kagome's horror, the boy's carelessly cruel comment was met with nods of approval from the other children. From their tiny little mouths came a string of chirruping susurrus.

"Yeah, I don't like Gaara either." "I just want him to go away." "He'd be better off dead. We wouldn't have to deal with his fits then." "Why'd he have to live in the same village as ours?" "Even mama matron thought he was too dangerous to let loose. Why can't they just put him in a prison same as they did the old monk?" "It's cause he's the Kazekage's son. If he weren't…"

"Stop it!" snapped Kagome, at once shocked and horrified at the outpouring of malice from a group of children no older than twelve. "That is not nice. You.. you all should not say that!"

They hushed at the sound of her raised voice, turning confused and chagrined eyes at her.

"But… Onee-san, you don't understand," one of them protested, "Gaara is... bad... all the adults said so. He hurt people, killed them. Did you know the first person he killed was when he was five? We are not being mean. He is. He's the monster!"

The scene before her eyes was becoming eerily familiar. Kagome had seen them before, in a different place, a different time, the same play enacted with different actors. The Hanyou Jinenji and the angry villagers who were convinced that he was the demon preying on their members. Shiori whose bat demon parentage got her to be forcibly exiled from her own village and birth mother. It was the same…no, it was worse. Jinenji had his mother. Shiori had hers and the ghost of her father.

The chimeric child Gaara… if she was hearing it right… had no one. Not his father, not his sister, not his fellow villagers, not even the children of his age. And the unnatural state of his grafted soul must give him a lot more trouble than Jinenji's misshapen body ever did. The Sand warriors were a lot like the taijiya of old, but they had neither holy monks nor mikos with purifying power. It occurred to her then, with the complete lack of true youkai and individuals with strong spiritual power in this world, that the people would not know how to deal with a child like Gaara, would be unprepared to live with someone like him. And that… was a sad thing to think about.

"He's not," she said to the orphans, voice quiet but unyielding. "He's a boy, a child, like you." She was upset, and somewhat angry, but they weren't the ones at fault. They were children who knew no better than what was taught to them by the adults around them.

"He killed people!" said the boy with the wire-rim glass.

As if to prove his statement, Kagome sensed two souls blinked out at once, the light of their spirit flared at the moment of death, crushed beneath the nebulous presence of the tanuki, before fading away to some other world. The tanuki was going on a rampage in the market square where a lot of people were still stuck. The child part of the soul was completely crushed to the bottom, trapped in the madness of his much more powerful counterpart. If he was left as he was, a lot more innocent people would die.

"Then he needs… to be stopped. But it doesn't change… the fact that he needs help," said Kagome, standing up. "I need… I need to go to where he is." The Shadow of the Wind would not be happy with her, but at the moment, what he wanted her to do was quite irrelevant.

"You won't go anywhere," came the quiet statement from her back. Kagome turned and there Yuhi stood. Only by the account of her young age was Kagome able to read the expressions on her face. She was conflicted, but in the end committed to carrying out her mission to the letter. Ever since day one, Kagome had never been under any delusions as to the nature of her 'maidens'. They never wore the garbs of the warrioress but there was no hiding the sharp tones of their bodies to Kagome who had lived and slept and bathed with Sango for the better part of a year. They were good people, and genuinely wanted to be her friends, this she knew without a doubt. But on the other side, they were also soldiers with a mission. She didn't know the details of what order they were under, but she could guess well enough. To protect her, and watch over her as per the Shadow of the Wind's instructions.

And if she knew Rasa, which she thought she she had a fair grasp of, having been in the man's close acquaintance for over eight months, then he must have already made known to these girls the fact that he wanted her nowhere near the chimeric boy.

"It's dangerous outside, Kagome-sama," Yuhi continued. She was standing with her hands by her side and out in the open, the pose coupled with the floral babydoll dress she wore making her look like a harmless teenager girl rather than the trained warrioress she really was. "You've always been kind. I know you want to help, but Kazekage-sama… no… we… all of us would be heart-broken if anything were to happen to you. You cannot help Gaara. For now, it is best that you remain here."

Yuhi sounded sincere. The light of her spirit was untainted with deceit. Which made it more difficult than if she were only a soldier following the directive of her superior. Smiling sadly at her, Kagome said.

"Yuhi… I'm sorry…"

The thing about being able to see souls and spirits was that eventually, gradually, even the way Kagome interacted with the world became different. After sight, others thing followed. She used to not be able to do much other than just see the world in a different way than other people, but with time, she began discovering other things. If she touched the spirit just right… like this… not with her hands of course, but with the reach of her own spirit.

Yuhi had a split second to realize something was going on before she stiffened and then collapsed on the spot, unconscious. Kagome caught her on her way down, then gently lowered her to the ground. The children gasped in shock at the sudden turns of event behind and around her.

"She sleeps," said Kagome in an attempt to calm them. "Don't worry. It's not bad. She wakes up soon." Then she turned around to the orphans who Yuhi had been patching up until just now. "Can you… watch her for me? Make sure she's... okay… when she wakes." They nodded dazedly, looking in bemusement between the supposedly harmless priestess and the seasoned but now quite clearly unconscious kunoichi.

She turned to look at the door then. She needed to leave before Mei came back from investigating whatever was making that racket. Looking at the dazed and lost children around her, she said softly.

"I need to... go out. I need to go to where Gaara is."

"You… she…" the wire-rim glasses boy stuttered, then, as if having regained his bearings, he straightened up. "There's the barrier. No one can get out."

Yes, there was Oren's barrier enveloping the entirety of the building. But even when she was only fifteen and starting to learn the intricacies of Miko craft, barriers had never been able to trouble her. Not all of them anyhow. Oren's barrier might not be like anything she had felt before, but it didn't seem to have the overwhelming strength of Naraku or Shiori's barriers.

"I can," she said simply in response to the boy's statement. "But... I don't know the way to where Gaara is." She had an idea of the direction, but the streets of Sunagakure was a honeycomb maze that required a lot of time and exploration neither of which she really had, having always been escorted through specific cleared paths off the peak traffic area to wherever the destination of the day was.

There was suddenly a hush as the orphans eyed each other in trepidation.

"It's a stampede outside," said glasses boy. "The streets will be blocked."

"You won't be able to make it to the central market square," agreed another girl standing a head taller than him.

"She will if she takes the rat's way," interjected a boy with a headful of messy brown hair and a scar across one cheek. He looked fairly bit older than the average age of the orphans, around Souta's age, thirteen or so.

"Rat's way?" Kagome repeated.

"It's like… this back alley system that runs through the village. Real small," the boy held two of his fingers a hair's width apart. "So the only one who can use it are kids…"

"He means street rats, like us," The girl from earlier cut in, shooting her counterpart a look. "Most ninjas don't fit the rat's way, and the ones that do hate it cause there's no space for them to maneuver their fancy ninja moves. A runty street rat can shank them with luck and preparation and there ain't no death as embarrassing as being shanked by an untrained street kid. Onee-san is just about small enough to fit through but… Fuyu… you're really going to help Gaara? He... " she hesitated here, frowning, then pushed forward. "Because of him… your father is…"

"Shut up! What the hell do you know?" The boy named Fuyu, who had brought up the rat's way in the first place shouted, face red. Then he looked over at Kagome with eyes that were beginning to wet. "I ain't helping Gaara!" He said loudly, as if making a statement. "I'm helping Miko Onee-san. There's a difference."

He took her hand then, and in a voice that seemed to say he had made up his mind and wouldn't change it, said. "We should get going soon… before that other Kunoichi nee-san comes back and you have to... uh… do your weird Miko thing again. You don't … don't uh… shine… so if we keep out of the way, the ninjas with good senses won't be able to sense you."

The crowd of orphans twittered as Fuyu led her to the door, a couple of the older kids looking like they wanted to follow them. But Kagome stopped them.

"Stay," she said in her heavily accented Sand tongue. "It's dangerous." And when a couple of them looked at her worriedly, smiled reassuringly. "I'll be back... soon."

Fuyu led her through the same hallway, but at the crossroads where they passed to get to the inner mess-hall, he took a left and pulled her onto a different path. Three right turns and five left turns and a dizzying number of hallways and doors after, they arrived at a small, run down door with a rainbow of crayon scratches and a rusted bronze handle on it. Pushing the door open, the boy shouted over his shoulder at her.

"I hope ya right about the barrier."

Kagome stepped through the door after the boy and walked out into the street by the side of the new orphanage building. The differences were immediately apparent. The street was barren, but there were all sorts of stuff strewn about here and there. A broken cart, upended ports and bags left behind by fleeing villagers. The ground, which was usually covered with a thin layer of sand and dirt, was immaculate. A cat ran frantically through the street as it made its way home. The sound of a man calling in panic for his missing son. Then Kagome saw it. Towering above the streets, the buildings, and the electric poles, a tanuki made entirely out of sand was rampaging in the heart of the village. The fact that she could see it over the distance and the various buildings in between the market square and the orphanage was testament to its sheer size. It was large, larger than Sesshomaru's true form, as large as Ryokotsuke and perhaps Inu no Taisho when he was alive, and it was screaming bloody murder.

At the Tanuki's roar, a veil of sand bullets appeared over the skyline and started carpet bombing the village down below. Before the bullets made impact however, they were stopped by pockets of glittering gold dust that rose from the ground. As each sand bullet and gold dust cloud collided, thundering booms reverberated through the village.

"That's Lord Kazekage!" said Fuyu as he pulled her towards an alley branching off the street. Between them and the alley was a shimmering, translucent barrier that crackled threateningly as the boy approached it.

"Stay close to me," said Kagome as she pulled Fuyu closed. This close to Oren's barrier, she could see clear as day the threads that held it together. There were knots along its thin membrane, possibly visible to only her eyes. If she touched them…

… Ah. There it was. One hand held forward, Kagome stepped close to the barrier, touched it, and then passed through it as if it were never there in the first place. Fuyu followed closely behind her, eyes wide and slightly dazed for a second before he shook himself out of his stupor and led her by the hand again.

They made their way into the alley, which was barely large enough for her to come through, then through what Kagome could only describe as a labyrinth of tiny alleys forking and branching through the various larger streets of the village. After what felt like an eternity to her, Fuyu stopped abruptly.

"We're here," he gestured at the opening of the alley they were in where light and the sound of battle flooded through. Kagome walked past him without hesitation. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she said.

"Stay." As she withdrew her hand, a tiny bubble sprung up around the boy, enclosing him in and protecting him from harm of any kind. "I'll be back." Then she stepped through the alley mouth and into the market square.

* * *

The central market square was once known under a different name, Taiyou no Niwa, the Sun Yard. It was the single largest manmade structure of Sunagakure with the exception of the walls around the village and in the surrounding desert. After having served as the site of the biggest market of not only local Sand people but also foreign travelling merchants for over fifty years, it became known as the Central Market or simply the Central Square. There was a lengthy story behind the name change she was sure, but Rasa's succinct nature and manner of speaking had shortened it to a necessity to accommodate visiting merchants who couldn't quite mimic the thick local accent and produce the correct name.

The square was four hundred yards wide and six hundred yards long, a plot of flat land nearly fifty acres in surface area situated perfectly in the center of the village. It had four main gates through which large caravans of visiting merchants would come through all year round and its grounds were plated with a type of heat retardant slate quarried from deep dessert pits. Statues of various guardian ninja animals and past heroes dotted its rims. At its center stood the village symbol, a sculpture made from sandstone and red-dyed steel, and before this sculpture, a gleaming, great board forged from pure titanium bearing the names of all the warriors who died for the village.

The market housed over three hundred local shops and had bore witness to countless celebrations and historical moments of the village. On its off day, Taiyou no Niwa, the Central Market saw roughly seven thousand visitors and was the village's undisputed center of commerce.

As Kagome stepped foot into it for the first time, all around her was chaos… and sand… lots and lots of sand. An ocean of it, churning furiously as if disturbed by some great wind. There were people lying on the ground in pain, people running, people shouting. Right in front of her, a row of shops had been flattened underneath a mountain of swirling sand. She saw crowds of people across the square, congregating at the gates which had collapsed under piles of stones and broken marble columns. Around these crowds and over the collapsed gates were throngs of sand warriors who, by the look of it, were trying to clear away the rubbles and evacuate the thousands of people still stuck inside the square.

Above them, a battle between titans raged. Under a burning red and purple desert sun, the Shadow of the Wind was single handedly battling the tanuki spirit. An ocean of sand against streams of pure glittering gold. Rasa was zipping about in the air, held aloft on a cloud of flying gold dust. The gold streams danced to his will, countering the tanuki's sand and keeping its attention away from the crowds of civilians. Some of that gold was attached to the tanuki's back and hind legs, pulling it down like the wire-rim glasses boy said. But the tanuki moved in a way that suggested that this was an old dance between the two of them, and that it had learned a thing or two from having been beaten to the ground at Rasa's hand one too many times. It jumped and leaped and used its massive frame to its advantages, crushing the rows of shops within the square into rubbles. And whenever the gold attempted to creep up further and push it down, fired off volleys of sand bullets in the direction of the fleeing crowd, forcing Rasa into pulling back his gold to cover the defenseless people.

It noticed Kagome the moment she entered the square proper and swivelled on its mammoth hindlegs to face her.

"YOU!" It screamed, the force of its booming voice sending shockwaves into the air. "WITCH!"

Rasa and the warriors in the square turned at once, drawn by the tanuki's sudden rage. Kagome saw the exact moment Rasa realized who was standing at the other end of the square, out in the open and absolutely without supervision. She had never before seen such naked emotions on his face. Shock, terror. His mouth opened in a scream she couldn't hear. His hands moved, willing gold and warriors to her, but the tanuki was the quicker one this time. It spread its mouth into a yawning chasm and within a single heartbeat, before either Rasa's gold or the sand warriors could make it to where Kagome stood, fired off a ball of blazing black fire in her direction.

.

.

.

To Kagome's senses, time slowed down. The world around her, which was usually vibrant and noisy with a thousand things going on all at once, muted out. The light dimmed and the people in the background faded away. Her attention was on the tanuki and the flying ball of burning death racing its way across the square towards her. The ground beneath the ball cracked and burned and melted into black goo as it made its way across. And the tanuki…

… now that Kagome had seen it with her own eyes, Shukaku seemed both bigger and smaller at once. Its physical body, made of sand and held together by roiling dark energy not quite youki, was massive. It was as big as the daiyoukai of her old world. But on the other hand, its spirit felt… small, maimed. if she were to detract the murderous rage that painted its spirit black at the moment, its presence felt like it was half of what it should be. It seemed Gaara was not the only wounded party in this ill-formed union between a fleshly mortal and a spirit of nature.

But now was not really the time to contemplate the intricacies of their chimeric state. The burning black ball was very close to its destination now and if Kagome didn't do anything, she would die along with probably all the villagers living in houses behind her.

She closed her eyes for a second, and for the first time in nearly a year, called upon her Miko ki. It came to her as though she had never sealed it away, shining and warm and filling her cold shell to the brim. Distantly, she was aware of sand warriors, those who could see with more than their eyes, those whose spirit gleamed a different shade from their comrades, leaping back as their senses suddenly detected the presence of power where there was once nothing. Her Miko's barrier sprung up a second after, gleaming pink against the advancing tanuki's ball.

The two forces collided in a nova of flashing lights, the tanuki's tainted energy against her Miko powered barrier. For a brief moment, the burning black ball pushed, seemingly gaining on her barrier, the place where black and pink met sparking violently. Then, with a loud, cracking boom like the sound of thunders, the ball shattered into a million pieces, the shards bounding from the wall of her barrier, growing weak and faint as her holy spirit cleansed their taint.

As the dust settled around a perfectly unharmed and unarmed Kagome, the square was suddenly dead quiet but for the tanuki's screams of rage.

"ABOMINATION!" It roared as it tore free of Rasa's golden restraints, buoyant on black fury and fear. "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL CRUSH YOU WHERE YOU STAND."

Then all the sand in the square rushed upward into the skies where they formed a million spinning bullets. The air was suddenly fraught with the tanuki's murderous intention and the shouts of people, villagers and warriors both, in dismay. Kagome saw Rasa's gold shifting, rushing to counter what could only be another hail of bullet. She could feel his fear for her sake, all the way from across the yard, stark as day, as well as the panic of a dozen other sand warriors in the square all directing at her.

Despite their worry however, Kagome felt oddly calm. This scene, this rush, this battle. They all felt familiar. She had done this before, many many times, and the electrifying sense of danger filled her not with terror but with nostalgia.

Ah… this dance…

The tanuki's bullets darkened the skies as they shot towards her, spinning, hissing in the air. Without a thought, four more barriers sprung up in in the square, around the crowds of civilians, the warriors and the Shadow of the Wind. Her barriers held strong, burning and sizzling away the bullets that pounded against their walls.

Kagome moved then, galvanized by the memories of a hundred battles against foes much more dangerous and cunning than this mad spirit. She could feel a spike of phantom pain from the boy still trapped within the mad spirit. He was coming apart as the tanuki raged on.

She needed to end this battle.

In the rubble of the collapsed shops were strewn weapons of all kinds. Knives, swords, fans, throwing stars, scrolls of paper. Most of them were broken and burned, but the among them the shurikens were small and tough enough to avoid most of the damage in the collapse. Picking up the leaf shape shurikens, she drew a single apple seed from her pocket, one of the few left after having grown a small garden for the orphanage kids.

It was not the seed's wish to grow into a shape it did not know, but it conformed easily to the pull of her power. It sprouted in her hands, growing long leafy vines and thick wood and shaped itself to her will until Kagome held in her hand an applewood bow with the string made of thin yet resilient vine. In her other hand, the wood grasped onto the leaf shape shuriken, forming the tail to its makeshift arrowhead.

Just in time too, because the tanuki, apparently having smartened up to the fact that its bullets were ineffective against her barriers, had changed its approach. With an ear splitting roar, it summoned forth a tsunami of sand and sent it crashing down upon all who stood within the square.

In response, Kagome shifted into stance, nocked her arrow, drew the bowstring taut in one fluid motion, breathed in, filled the applewood shaft and the cast iron head with Miko's ki, aimed, breathed out, and released. Her arrow was a shining pinprick against the cascading sand tsunami and as it impacted, blew clean through the tainted sand.

The tanuki screamed in frustration. But Kagome was not about to let it call forth another wave. In her hand, the second arrow formed with the speed of a thought. She nocked it without words, aimed, fired.

Her arrow struck the tanuki's front leg this time, blowing the appendage clean off and melting the tainted sand flesh. Shukaku screamed again, this time not in rage but in fear and pain. It had a body made of sand and chakra. It had never before felt this kind of pain, worse than being captured, worse than being sealed away, worse than decades of being imprisoned against its will. It had a body of sand and chakra. It could regenerate endlessly and outlast any foes not its fellow bijuu and not versed in the art of sealing. It never once thought anything could harm its physical shell. But at that very moment, as it instinctively pulled the sand back into the shape of its front leg. It found it could not. Its leg was melting off, rotting away, and it could not stop the advance of the rot.

Something was mixed in with its sand, with its chakra. A blazing, burning light that was eating up its essence.

For the very first time in its life, it felt fear, true fear, as it realized what this strange power could do to it, what this abominable witch could do to it. She could kill it, truly and completely. She could end its thousand years old existence. She was, perhaps, the only one in this world who could.

"ARGHHHhhhh! It HUrtss! It hUrts! StAy away! Stay aWAy!"

It summoned up another volley of sand bullets, this one smaller and weaker, then turned tail and ran for the desert. Before it could take more than three limping steps however, a wall of gleaming pink light shot up in front of it, barring the way. The wall was made of the same blazing light that hurt it more than the sealing. Then another on its right and another on its left, boxing it in. It snapped its head around then and saw at its back the abominable witch leisurely following with her flimsy looking bow drawn and aimed at its heart.

"nO! NO! StaY Back! sTAY bACK, you WITCH! Papa! pAPA! Save ME! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! nOOOOO! NOOOO!" It wailed and thrashed and yanked violently at the sand and the desert but the walls could do more than just bar its way to escape. They were suppressing its power, prepping it for the killing blow that would soon follow.

Down below, Kagome drew her bow, filled her arrow with holy ki until it shone like it was made of light, aimed, fired.

A terrible scream rent the air as her arrow struck true. It was quickly followed by the dying keen of the mad spirit. Kagome's last and strongest arrow hung in the air where its purification power ate away at the tainted spirits within seconds. The sand melted away, lost shape, fell, until finally she could see the human boy buried at the core of the tanuki monster. For a moment, the boy was held aloft by a thin cloud of sand. The mother, weak but alive, held her son while smiling in gratitude at Kagome.

_You saved my son,_ she spoke, her words heard by none but the Miko standing below._ Thank you. I won't forget this. Thank you. _

Then, with great care and tenderness, she lowered the boy into Kagome's waiting arms and then faded away.

As the last of the tanuki's sand body disintegrated into dust, Kagome held a sleeping Gaara tight in her arms, his chin on her shoulder and head against the column of her neck, and enveloped him in a glow of purifying light. Across the Sun Yard, she could see the face of the father amidst a blur of other faces and people, pale and bloodless, staring back at her.

* * *

**End Chapter 9**

* * *

1\. I changed the story rating to M. From now on, we are on route to arc 2 of the story, where the tone will gradually become more mature (the opening of this half chapter is already a testament to that) and touch upon topics not suitable for those too young. To be fair, From the Garden of Gods has never been the fluffy, easy kind of story, but before then, the subject matter was still relatively tame. From here on out, that will change (though not drastically; this ain't Tis Femina after all).

2\. I was going to include the interrogation of Kagome by the Go-Ikenban after the showdown between her and Shukaku but thought the chapter was getting a bit too long, so I stopped. Next chapter: "Who are you, Miko? What are you?"

3\. From here on out, we are going to see more interaction between Kagome and the main cast of the story (Gaara, Temari, etc…) in contrast with the general background crowd of arc 1 (which covered Kagome's entry into Sunagakure and the premise of her encountering Gaara who later on became her drive to change the ninja world. Without him, she wouldn't have felt attached enough to want to actively change the trajectory of Rasa's world). We will gradually learn more about Kagome's power and get some hints as what happened to her prior to her arriving in Narutoverse.

4\. Gaara is eleven years old in this chapter for those of you who are wondering, roughly six years younger than Kagome.

5\. And no, Kagome did not just kill Shukaku… at least not entirely. She is well aware that Shukaku is linked to Gaara and is not sure if killing the spirit outright would cause permanent harm to him. Besides, Kagome is a little curious about Shukaku, seeing him not as a true demon but more a spirit gone mad from his imprisonment and forced merge with a human.

6\. I'm feeling surprisingly motivated. Next chapter will probably come out soon, in a week or two… provided my boss does not heckle me too badly.

See you next time!

Sythe


	11. Chapter 10: What is a Miko?

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Beta: Michelle T., AstaraelDarkrahBlack

**Chapter 10: What is a Miko?**

* * *

When the Go-Ikenban once again gathered for the day, it was an hour to midnight and six hours from the incident at the Central Market Square. Once the dust and sand finally settled on the ruined Sun Yard, there were many places to check for residual dangers, and heads to count—Kagome's as well as the child she still held were the first two among them. When the Shadow of the Wind came for her on the sunlit field of the Central Market Square, she had not resisted his request for her to come with him, and now here she was, seated and waiting in an important looking chamber in an important looking building. The most important building in the village, in fact, if the intricately carved decor and the increased number of warriors guarding it were anything to go by.

Hours ticked by as she waited patiently for the aftermath of her showdown with the tanuki, until finally the door opened once again to admit a Sand warrior with half his face hidden under a veil that was attached to the turban he wore. The man was tall and brawny and the shape of the cloth on his head suggested that he was completely bald. He looked first not at her but at the boy asleep in her hold, a glint of something dark in his gaze. Kagome did not tense or say a word in response, but something must have shown in her demeanor for the sand warrior stilled and then stepped back, hands and pose softening.

"Miko-san," he said in a voice that betrayed nothing of what was going on in his mind. That he spoke so slowly was to her benefit. "The village elders are ready to see you." He gestured at the sleeping Gaara. "You can leave him with…"

Kagome stopped him before he could finish his sentence. "No. I go. He goes." She tightened her awkward hold on the boy as she stood up. It was difficult holding onto him while walking, as Gaara was no small child and Kagome was not even close to being a tall woman, but she was not letting go. She had seen the looks on the faces of the villagers and the warriors. The unconcealed fear, doubt, and uncertainty that was felt by everyone in the village. Hard experience had taught her more than once what might happen when people—even good, honest folks who knew nothing of war and bloodshed—were sufficiently frightened. Before she settled this with the rulers of the village, she was not letting this boy out of her sight, and if Sand-warrior-san had something to say about it, better he do it now.

The Sand warrior regarded her for a moment. If he was looking for weakness, he did not find it and after a brief pause, he held up both hands in surrender.

"Alright." He said, then turned around, opened the door with one hand, and led her through the long, twisting hallways. There were guards by the door as they exited the waiting room and at the sight of her they stiffened, and then as if having remembering their orders, they averted their gaze towards the floor. They reached their destination after five minutes, the hallway ending in a granite-lined door which lead to a great chamber. Standing in front of that door was the Shadow of the Wind Rasa-san himself.

He looked at her, at the boy in her arms, and then at the sand warrior in front of them. A silent and furious exchange took place between the two of them, the nuances too quick for Kagome to catch, though she could take a good guess at what the topic was about.

"Don't," she spoke up, breaking the oppressive silence and drawing the attention back to her. "Not... his fault. I asked for Gaara to stay… with me."

If Kagome had thought that the reigning chief of the village of the Sand People was cold and somewhat aloof in their first meeting over half a year ago, then this time the look that he gave her was freezing, the lines of his face were stiff, as if someone had taken his features and cast them in stone. He said not a word nor did he even react at all to her statement other than the redirection of his gaze towards her, but his displeasure was plain to see.

Perhaps if he had directed his ire at someone else, some other girl younger than her who had never gone through the harrowing circumstances that she had, he would have been able to cow her into submission, but Kagome had never been daunted by the icy disposition of anyone, be they Sand Warriors or a Dog Demon Lord. She pressed on despite the very clear warning in the bald sand warrior's eyes.

"Let him… come with me. We talk about him too, yes? And the… the… big ... dog. Your questions, I will answer them all… to my best. But only if he's with me."

There was no response from Rasa, only the unyielding cold hard stare, but two could play at this game. Kagome squared her jaw and answered his look with a challenge of her own. They might have kept at it for longer, had their impromptu staring match not been cut short as the door opened with a creak and out came another man with an impressive goatee on his chin.

"Lord Kazekage, is the Miko—oh…" he stopped abruptly as he spotted Kagome and the red-headed child with his head slumped on her shoulder. Directing an uncertain look at Rasa, he started, "Uhh…" and was stopped short.

"I will be but a moment, Goza," said the chief of the Sand people, momentarily breaking his gaze to look past Goza's shoulder and into the chamber where evidently someone was waiting for her to show up. There was a brief pause before—apparently having come to a decision—he turned back, extended a hand to her while his other pushed the door fully open.

"Come, Miko."

…

The chamber where she was to talk to the Go-Ikenban of the Sand People was enormous, the size of a great cavern if a such a place could hold so perfect a design, a grand paradigm constructed with a single purpose in mind which was to awe and humble all those who walked within it. Where all of the administrative rooms and buildings outside were made from stucco to ward off the heat and the sun. This chamber alone in the village was built entirely from sandstone and marble, their cool breath emanating from the walls, floors, and high domed ceiling above. There was light coming in from the windows, the light of a rising brass moon, and from the fluorescent lamps set in the walls. There were stone giants standing in the back, warriors with grim faces and imposing figures which Kagome estimated were maybe fifty feet tall, their expressions fixed in judgement or determination, the last of them bearing a striking resemblance to the man who had been her teacher and guardian for the last eight months. Above their heads was the single character for Wind in the Sand people script.

At the feet of these giants was a similarly enormous round table around which twelve men sat in waiting. They looked at her, their eyes heavy with consideration, scrutinizing her entire person. They all wore blank expressions, expertly masked with the aid of age and experience, their postures were rigid. They could not feel it themselves as they lacked the sense that she possessed, but the stench of their suspicion was unmistakable.

As Kagome approached the table, one of the twelve sprang up, the gesture so abrupt that it seemed to have surprised even the man himself. "Is…" his eyes went from the sleeping Gaara to Kagome and then to her unrestrained hands. Fear hung around him in dark shrouds "... is this… she's…she's not..."

"Ikanago!" snapped another member of the Council of the Sand People, this one looking significantly older and more grizzled than the stuttering Ikanago. "Have a little dignity. We are the Go-Ikenban of Sunagakure." Then the man turned towards her. "Take a seat, Miko." He demanded loudly, as if making an example to his colleagues. He gestured towards the single chair placed a couple steps away from the round table, clearly meant to be the seat of one who was about to be subjected to questioning.

Despite the man's demand, Kagome stood still beside the empty chair. Ikanago was not the only one whose fear and suspicion was so strong it seeped from him like oil leaking from an old barrel. They hid it well, but it was clear that what had happened this afternoon had forever shattered the image of her as the harmless, clueless, civilian girl. To be fair, she had just seemingly killed a creature which likely was the worst nightmare of the Sand People with barely any effort. She could either let it go on like this, simply sit down and answer their questions as she had promised, or…

Turning to Rasa, who had been standing beside her patiently and wordlessly, she adjusted her grip on the boy so that she could hold out a hand to him.

"Cut me," she said, to which he responded with a single raised eyebrow. "I am made… of… of… flesh," she explained, not to him but to the men watching her every gesture with scrutiny and intent. "If you cut me, I will bleed, like everyone else."

Hearing her explanation, Rasa complied without another word. The kunai came unseen from the sleeve of his robe. He held her hand high, palm up, so that the members further away could see it clearly, the pale tender flesh, stained green and brown with the grass and dirt of the orphanage new garden. With a flash of steel, so fast she almost couldn't catch it, he drew a bloody line in the palm of her hand. She gasped softly from the pain, watching the scarlet beads grow quickly in size, swell, become a stream that ran over the curve of her hand and down her bare arm. A bloody drop hit the immaculate marble floor. The soft _ting_ it made was like the sound of glass shattering in the dead quiet of the chamber.

It felt as if an invisible pressure had lifted as those in the room started breathing again. In the far back, two men of the Go-Ikenban whispered furiously under their breath, emboldened by this turn of events.

"You have made your point, Miko," said Rasa quietly to her as he stemmed the blood still running down her arm and wrapped her palm in white cotton bandages. "Take your seat." She sat down in the chair which was made for someone of much bigger statue than her and arranged the sleeping Gaara so that he lay comfortably against her, then turned to face her waiting audience.

"Gentlemen," announced Rasa. "Shall we begin?"

* * *

Their first question was a rehash of an old one.

"Who are you, Miko? And where do you come from?"

"I am Kagome, Higurashi. I came from... a land far away."

"That is not an answer."

"You would not… know it. It is in… another… w… world… plane…"

She had decided to be completely honest with her answers. What was the point of dressing up the fact that her home was in another world entirely? These people could spit fire from their mouths and metal moved at their whims. What did she have to lose? She was never going back there again. There was a brief pause at her answer, but no one had yet objected to the absurdity of her claim. They were likely reminding themselves that the young woman who sat before them had thus far been full of surprises and impossibilities.

"... what are you?" The question was delivered lined with an edge of wariness from a man with a goatee who the Shadow of the Wind had called Goza. The very same wariness that the question which had escaped from Rasa in that first meeting between them had held. However, this time the man who first took her in and made her a citizen proper of this sandy country was as still as the statue made in his likeness. He felt blank, out of all the people she had met and seen through, there were always those like him, the ones who held themselves under such restraint that even her senses normally wouldn't be able to see what they were feeling. He was like that now, an impenetrable wall through which nothing was escaping. Sesshomaru had been the same up to the moment of his death. She had never quite decided if that was a good thing or a bad one, or if it was something that simply was.

"A Miko."

"What exactly is a Miko? You have said that it means priestess. But we have no such priestesses here." Now they were in new territory. When Rasa had asked this same question, she had never been able to give him a full answer with her pitiful grasp of the local language, until now.

Kagome considered her words carefully. "Miko…." The nature of Shintoism was that it had countless strains and local beliefs and was at times difficult to describe in full. It was the collective beliefs and myths and spiritual practices of the people of her nation and it had no unifying god to speak there of. It was more spirituality than a true religion. She had no words that would sum up what a Miko was in a single thought. But…

She brought up a hand, the one without the bandage on, and called upon her Miko ki. It came easily, eagerly, and it lit up her hand in a warm, pink glow as it arrived. It had never quite gone away even after the tanuki nearly bit the dust. The boy's chimeric soul was in turmoil and she found that having it around, lurking beneath her skin but never quite enough of the power to shed its distinctive glow, could do a world of good to someone whose soul was so maimed.

Immediately, the attention on her sharpened. The eyes of all the men in the room were fastened to her and her glowing hand, naked curiosity undisguised in them.

"What is that?" asked one of them, anticipation tinging his voice. "That is not chakra."

"Miko ki," she answered before letting the glow subside. "My home world, there are many… many… demons," the tension spiked as she said the word 'demon'. It was not a word Rasa had taught her, rather, she had learned it after having heard it dropped one too many times from the lips of frightened men and women and children when they talked about Gaara. She might not understand all the nuances of the word yet, but she could well guess what they meant by it. "Monsters that feed on humans. Mikos fight these demons and... protect the people."

Whatever the Go-Ikenban had in mind regarding the nature of the Shinto Miko, that probably had not been what they expected for she could feel the faint surprise coming from them.

"How many is many?"

"Many…beyond numbers." She held up fingers to demonstrate. Numbers were among the first taught to her in their nightly language classes. This would be the first time she made any significant use of that knowledge "Ten... twenty... a hundred... two hundred... a thousand... two thousands... ten thousands…" Kagome counted slowly. As she did so, the faces of some of the Go-Ikenban paled as the number went up and up, as high as she was taught, as far as she could remember. "... a hundred thousand…a million…"

"That cannot be…" exclaimed a man with a wrinkled, bare face beneath a turban. "You… that can't be!"

"Beyond counting," she repeated in the face of his disbelief. There really was no counting the demons and wicked spirits during the Sengoku Jidai, not while they bred and festered on the human suffering, corruption and death that ran rampant during that era. Kagome herself had seen more than one horde of demons numbering in the thousands. "Beyond numbers. Terrible monsters. Prey on humans days and nights. Flesh eaters. Soul eaters. Monsters who kill for sport. Some can wear the skin of their kill and… and walk among humans. Corr… corrupters."

When she saw that his disbelief was mirrored in many of the Go-Ikenban, she made a tentative offer. "I can… show you."

"Show us?"

"Yes," in the palm of her hand, Rasa's _fuin_ remained. They still used it as an integral part of her learning process. Without it, she probably would not have even begun stringing so many sentences together. "This fuin transfers your thoughts into my mind, yes? Flip it," she made a flicking gesture with one hand. "Then I can show you mine." From the corner of her eyes, she shot Rasa a glance. "Just… the images."

Her only response was the dubious look on the Go-Ikenban faces. "Young lady," one of the men spoke up. "I'm afraid that's not how our fuin wor…." Before he could finish however, a voice cut him off halfway.

"She can do it," said the Shadow of the Wind matter of factly, drawing looks of surprise from his fellow villagers. "She has done it before. Baki," he continued as he motioned to the bald Sand Warrior who had escorted her from the antechamber to this meeting hall. At his gesture, the Sand Warrior retreated to beyond the door in search of something. "Let her do it."

His casual remark had sown the seed of disruption in his fellow councilmen. Whereas before, they more or less presented a unanimous front, now she could see, quite clearly, that while some took well to Rasa's suggestion, others did not feel the same, and they would not stay quiet about it.

"But, Lord Kazekage, we can't possibly allow her to... " Ikanago protested. "We don't know what she can do. This girl," he pointed at her with one finger, the gesture snappish. "who we know next to nothing about, just killed the Shukaku. She's talking of witchcraft and nonsense and you will allow her to root about in our minds with impunity?"

There were murmurs of agreement in the circle of men before her.

"Calm down, Ikanago. We are shinobi of Sand. It is unsightly for supposedly seasoned warriors to lose their calm over such trivial matters," replied a different member of the Go-Ikenban, the one named Joseki who sat on the right of the Kazekage. "Truthfully we may not know much of Miko-san, but to know more about her is the purpose of today's gathering isn't it? Without understanding and mutual trust," the old councilman regarded her intentionally as he said this. "...we will never work through this impasse. Miko-san has been with us for almost a year and in all this time she has not done a single thing to harm the welfare of Sunagakure. I would see to it that we, as honored elders of the village, return her gesture in good faith. Either way, we are here to find out what happened earlier today. I do not see a better solution to understanding than what she has offered. Or do you perhaps have a better idea?"

Joseki's suggestion was the trigger for an argument. All at once the rest of the Go-Ikenban broke their silence, the many voices clamouring for attention. Some were in agreement with Joseki while others were vehemently against him. A few, it seemed, had chosen a more neutral ground.

"I can see your point, Joseki-dono. We certainly need to get to the bottom of what happened today, and indeed if we were to see into the Miko's memories, it would only make this much easier for us all. But Ikanago's concern is not out of place. Keep in mind that if what she says is true, then her power operates on a completely different basis compared to ours. Who's to say what will happen when the two is mixed while linked to our minds? Also what would happen to this village if the elders of Sand were to come away from this… less than we were? Certainly to go for it right now, when we know so little about how this… Miko ki… works is a poor choice at best."

It was around this time that the door to the chamber opened once more and Baki came in with a long box the size of his forearm. He went to Rasa's side silently, put the box on the surface of the round table, opened it.

"I hear all of you," said Rasa as he lifted a pale bar of pure silver from the box. "While I do not necessarily agree with some of your points, each of them is a valid view. However, there is no sense in arguing among ourselves at the moment. None of us will be convinced to change our mind easily, much less in such a short amount of time. I will say only this…"

In his hand, the silver bar melted, dissolving into a cloud of glittering silver particles. The cloud hovered above his palm for a moment before floating onto the surface of the round table where it drew a perfect belt around the edge of the table right at the rim of the table. The belt was covered in tiny inscriptions, fuin, she realized, so fine and densely packed that they looked like a uniform circle at first glance.

"... I may not know much about Miko Higurashi's abilities… nor her personal history, but I believe that she will not break my trust."

That surprised Kagome. It was the last thing she had imagined she would hear from the usually taciturn Rasa, especially after what she had just pulled in the Market Square. She almost gaped at him in open shock.

"If you cannot trust in her, then trust in me as your Kazekage." He laid his hand on the table atop the silver circle of fuin, before turning to her. "Come, miko. Place your hand on this circle. Those who are connected to it will be shown the vision that you wish us to see."

It seemed Rasa's declaration was a strong enough vote of confidence for the elders of Sand and one by one they extended their hands and laid them on the silver fuin circle, though some were slower to do so than the others, and a few wore openly grudging expressions on their faces. Kagome left the sleeping boy in her seat and approached the round table. Casting a look at the Go-Ikenban, and observing that the last to have lain his hand upon the circle was the man who had protested her suggestion with the most zeal, Kagome laid her own hand on top of the circle.

The connection was immediate, as was the familiar pinprick of the fuin in her palm activating. The Sand people's unique version of the ofuda script was as easy for her to manipulate as it had been that first time she met Rasa. Kagome took a deep breath, reached out, took hold of the connection in the fuin, and reversed it.

The great chamber around them disappeared in the blink of an eye to be replaced by...

… The vista of Japan during the Sengoku Jidai was a breathtaking one. She remembered seeing this the first time she had hopped onto Inuyasha's back and was taken with him as he leapt high into the skies. Open green fields, dense, dark forest, rushing blue rivers and dizzying falls, a backdrop of mountains and wilderness untouched by human hands. The vast skies were a tapestry woven from threads of brilliant hues: blue and white and pink and gold and orange and red as a bronze sun hung low in the skies…

Upon this wonderful landscape, the horde of grotesque demons was a terrible sight.

The first time she saw them was when the Inutachi were making their way through a wooded path in search for the illusive Taijiya village. As the sun went down and the skies darkened, the demons appeared. The oni flew at the head of the horde, leading and lighting the way with a flame that burned on the severed heads of humans. In its wake followed youkai of all kinds. Great snakes with human faces, naked women with fang filled mouth and serpentine necks, ogres big and small wearing the still bloody skin and bones of their kills, poisonous insects the size of great bulls with bloodshot eyes on their carapaces, the skeletons of the dead who had taken to unlife to reap vengeance upon the living. They blotted out the skies with their number, flying with a murderous glee as they made their way to a feast of carnage.

Their destination: the Taijiya village the home of an enemy that they had long wanted wiped off the earth.

When the Inutachi did make it to the Taijiya village, what they found was a scene out of hell. The village was razed to the ground and littered with the remains of dead humans and youkai alike. Corpses were strewn on the ground and in the stream. Dark and putrid, blood and pus soaked the earth. Tainted flesh decorated the ramparts. Some of the dead humans even looked as if they had been partially eaten while still alive and even more after their death.

Kagome felt the jolt of a shock from the Go-Ikenban. But she was not yet done showing them the youkai of her world. These youkai, while ghastly in appearance, had only been petty spirits that wouldn't survive a swing of Inuyasha's sword. This was just the beginning of what she planned to show them.

She showed them Yura of the Hair, the first youkai whose appearance had been wholly human that Kagome had seen. She wore the skin of a lovely woman, with smooth bare legs, a svelte body, and pert breasts under the thin gauze of her tantalizingly immodest attire. But for all that she appeared to be a human, every inch of her demeanor screamed demon. The glint in her eyes and the mountain of human bones and skulls that she danced upon as she laughed in manic glee showed it.

The nothing women prowled the battlefields, their faces empty and wailing for the children who had been lost to war. Sesshomaru sat on the shoulder of an oni the size of a mountain, back when he still wanted them dead, his inhuman beauty as cutting as the sense of danger that exuded from him. She showed them the Birds of Paradise clan as they fought Koga's wolf tribe. She showed them the great dragon youkai Ryuukossei as he awoke from the enforced slumber Inuyasha's father had placed him in, his ferocious visage opening up, his yellow eyes fastening on the prey that stood below him, his immense monstrous body shaking free from the seal, so great that he tore the mountain cliffs as it came free. She showed them the Hiyakki bats in the throes of blood thirst, descending onto helpless villagers to feast.

Then last, the most terrible of all. Naraku, in all of his guises: in the body of a young man, appearing and feeling completely human, then as his hanyou self, then in the body made of youkai trapped in his spell, and then finally in his last guise, the giant black spider that hung from the skies, the sight of it signifying the end of their journey.

Only once she was sure the Sand people had grasped what she meant by 'demon' and 'beyond counting', did Kagome start on the other half of the spectrum. The youkai's natural enemy, miko and monks who possessed immense holy power.

Kaede, the village miko that cared for the people, who healed them of their ills and protected her village against youkai and wicked spirits alike, her whole life having been dedicated from girlhood to matron age. Miroku was the first monk she met who actively hunted youkai. The Saint Hakushin of Mount Hakurei, who had died with a pure heart. But if she were to show them people who fought youkai, then there was one and only one stood above the rest: the woman whose death started Kagome's journey, she who had until the moment of dying had devoted her entire life to the extermination of evil youkai.

_**Midoriko**_

Kagome had never seen the living Midoriko with her eyes of course, but she had touched her spirit, had heard her voice, listened to her story, and found courage in the tale of Midoriko and the birth of the Shikon no Tama. And so the visions that she sent into the minds of the Go-Ikenban was of a Midoriko born of Kagome's imagination and the memories of the dead priestess herself.

She stood in battle, a woman in her late twenties, ethereally beautiful, pure of heart and resolute. She wore the red and white garb of the Miko under her armor, and in it fought countless youkai. She was fierce in battle, a goddess in mortal shell, unyielding, and undaunted. Wicked youkai perished in the thousands at a swing of her sword. She was bathed in the same aura that Kagome possessed, the power of purification. Whenever the light which was the power touched the youkai, they were purified in an instant.

Having shown the Go-Ikenban what she wanted, Kagome prepared to withdraw from the connection. At the last moment however, a single memory jumped forward in her mind. The sight of the creator of the Shikon had resurrected feelings in her she was not prepared to deal with. The memory was of the last time Kagome saw Midoriko. She stood amidst the darkness of the corrupted Shikon, glowing as if her flesh was made of light. This had been right before her soul was released from the centuries of battle within the Shikon and gained nirvana. She smiled and looked at Kagome with love and adoration. From her mouth a tender voice escaped.

"Kagome...", the voice resounded in the space Kagome now shared with all the members of the Go-Ikenban. It rung with power and emotions far beyond what she could control. It called her name lovingly as if from a mother to her child. "...live happily."

Kagome shut the memory away with great force. Before her, the smiling Midoriko disappeared, replaced by a deathly silent chamber and a shell shocked Go-Ikenban. They looked at her, their faces pale with expressions that suggested they were seeing her in a completely different light.

"Miko... " she spoke up then in the complete silence, answering the question that had started it all. What was a miko? "... is the natural enemy of demons." She let her Miko ki flare up briefly, wreathing her in the same light as that of Midoriko before it faded away. This light of purity, while harmless to normal humans, would prove fatal to all demons and evil spirits.

Silence reigned in the chamber for minutes as they digested her declaration before slowly, hesitantly, a member of the Go-Ikenban, Joseki who sat on the right of the Kazekage, spoke up.

"Is that why you killed the Shukaku?"

* * *

**End Chapter 10**

* * *

1\. On the scale of craziness, IMO, Inuyasha-verse trumps Naruto-verse by a long margin. Sure Narutoverse has more epic battles, but the brutality and cruelty in Naruto canon is mostly off-screen and tamed as it is between humans. The first significant character to die on-screen was Jiraiya and it took more than three hundred chapters for us to actually see him kick the bucket. Whereas in Inuyasha, people were dying left and right in gruesome manners: from wars, from being beheaded, from being eaten by demons and even by their fellow humans (i.e. Peachman who practiced cannibalism to attain youth and immortality), from having their blood sucked dried, from being eaten to the bone in seconds by a swarm of demon rats, from being skinned alive, etc… We have people being killed and then resurrected and then killed again. Within the first three volumes, we already have a guy, completely vanilla human painter, who thought using ink made from the blood and guts of dead people to paint pictures was a swell idea. We also have children whose parents were eaten by demons taking up youki guns and go on a rampage killing demons indiscriminately regardless of whether the demons being killed were good or bad (i.e. Goryomaru's orphans). Also from the first three volumes, we have beautiful women being forced into egg sacs and slowly transformed into giant tadpoles (with their fucking human heads intact!) and served as food to a toad demon.

It's sort of ironic because Naruto is a shonen series and Inuyasha is supposedly a shojo series (to me it's more an Asian fantasy series though, especially the manga. The anime really played up the shojo aspects of the series but in the manga, the shojo elements only play secondary roles to the storyline which is great in my opinion), but if anybody asks me which one is the more hardcore series it will be Inuyasha hands down. Naruto… is sort of a kiddie world when compared to the absolute mayhem of the Inuyasha manga.

2\. Some reviewers remark that they feel the Inuyasha series is being a little underrepresented in From the Garden of Gods, especially compared to the amount of world building for Sunagakure and subsequently Narutoverse. Well, I'd say there's little to be done about that since Narutoverse serves as the main backdrop of the story. Still, chapters like this should mitigate that unfair representation a little bit. We'll gradually see more aspects of Inuyasha verse showing as we as well as the people of Sand learn more of what happened to Kagome (so there's that).

3\. This chapter was supposed to be longer and cover the meeting with the Go-Ikenban in full. But I thought it was getting quite long so I cut it off here and leave the other half to next chapter (coming soon). The meeting of the Go-Ikenban covers two major points: a. what is a miko and b. the fate of Gaara. So next chapter we will see that being discussed as well Kagome's reason for going to such length to protect him. Next chapter will also cover the Go-Ikenban's reactions to Kagome as well as their solutions on how to handle what has now become a tactical level asset to the village (while said asset still demands to be near their other, less unstable asset a.k.a Gaara).

4\. The names of the Go-Ikenban members in this chapters are purely canon (more or less). If you check the Naruto wikia, you will see new names having been added since the Gaara Hiden was published (I read it. It's pretty nice. And it actually introduces a disciple of the 4th Kazekage. That was interesting).

5\. Last week, an anon asked me a very interesting question on my tumblr Ask Sythe account. Here is the ask in question:

**Anon:** _If Kagome didn't end up in Suna but in Kumo what would you think would have happened?_

And here is my answer:

_The story would be completely different then… if there is one at all. In a way, Kagome was lucky to have landed in Suna since out of all the villages, it is the one that most appreciates her range of abilities. If Kagome landed in Kumo, her first few weeks would be better than in Suna in that she wouldn't be stranded in the middle of a desert. Instead, she would be stranded in a mountainous woodland area (which is Kumo general geography). She does fare far better at trekking through wooded terrains than sandy terrains. Eventually, she would have ended up in some kinda village, though not necessarily Kumo itself (can be a civilian village nearby)._

_Life for her would have been… dull and depressing. She is literally the dimwit girl who came from the wilds to these villagers. Maybe they will take pity on her. Maybe they'll try to take advantage of her. Kagome will still live though and strive to uphold her end of the promise to Kikyo. Her life is secluded, near a hermit. She knows well how to survive in a forest. She can hunt and keep herself mostly out of dangers, but she will basically be regarded as a crazy hermit girl by a lot of the villages in and near Kumo. Eventually, she will get through her first depressive state (survivor's guilt and all that) and be somewhat more inclined to use her abilities to help people who pass by her secluded area of the woods (imagine children getting lost in the woods being shown the way, or old women with sprained ankles being healed by the wild hermit). Eventually she becomes something of a local myth/fishwife's tale (though that will take years to happen). _

_The Kumo ninja are mostly uninterested in her once they have checked her out and see that she is no threat to them (just a normal civilian girl who cannot speak and seem a little dim in the head)… that is… until the incident of Yugito Nii. By chance, when Yugito was attacked by Akatsuki in the beginning of Naruto Shippuden, it was near Kagome's area of the woods. Hearing the desperate cries of the Two Tails, Kagome comes to investigate (this would be the first time she detects something in this world that is similar to her old world) and in the process saves Yugito from being abducted and ultimately killed by Akatsuki. _

_This effectively catapults Kagome into Naruto plot line because of her Miko abilities. Now the rumors about the woods dwelling half mad sage girl is no longer just a harmless, silly rumor to the Kumo ninjas and to Akatsuki. The other villages will eventually find out about her too (though much slower due to their ignorance and secretive nature concerning anything to do with Biju business). Kumo, of course, immediately tries to get Kagome into its fold, by force if necessary. They don't have as easy a time as Suna though because Kagome is in no way attached to their world, their people, their village and their way of life (in contrast, Suna in the main storyline was actively fostering this fondness in her for their people and country. They were much, much more successful too). Through Kumo's effort, Kagome meets Bee and spend a little more time with Yugito… but unlike with Gaara in the main storyline (for whom Kagome feels deeply connected and attached to him due to his unique chimeric construct, his age, and his similarity to her), Kagome don't feel really attached to these two (both adults and both active ninjas). She also doesn't take to Kumo's attempt to keep her in their village well (unlike with Suna again who swooped down on her when she was still in a very suggestible state). She has been on her own for years by then (around 4-5 years since the start of story). _

_Eventually, Kagome will either try to escape Kumo or she is kidnapped by Akatsuki who already know her Biju suppressing power through that first confrontation. If Akatsuki comes for her, it will be a terrible battle in Kumo. _

_Kagome meets Itachi and Obito this way and immediately see their fractured souls (Uchiha curse). From then on, the story can wildly branch into different path depending on how Kagome reacts to Itachi and Obito and how they themselves react to her. _

_Oh, also, because of Akatsuki's kidnapping of Kagome from Kumo, news of a woman sage who has Biju suppressing power (or at least a huge tactical importance) is made known to the other 4 villages. _

_In terms of romance path, this Kumo AU is a lot less… um… twisting… than the Suna version. Hmmm… also less explicit too, since there's not much time for any thing to develop (Shippuden basically took place over 2 years. At its start, Naruto was 15, by chapter 698, he said to his dad he turned 17. So yeah, not as much time for the romance aspect to develop) _

_In Kumo version, both Rasa (4th Kazekage) and Sarutobi (3rd Hokage) die as per canon. In the Suna version, they both survive due to Kagome's impact on Naruto world though both suffer permanent damages. _

_Fuck! _

_Now you have set my imagination haywire. I'm sitting here thinking of a separate plot line to the Kumo AU (complete with a mostly mute Kagome who communicates through a clan of spirit animals that have decided to keep her company, thus lending even more to her Wild Savant girl image in Kumo AU. I like that image. It's so different from her Gentle Spirit of the Desert image in the Suna-verse. I should draw them standing next to each other: the Savant in animal pelts with braided hair and looking a little rough while the Desert Spirit is dressed completely in fine linen, has long, flowing hair and looking dainty and delicate from having been protected and taken care of by Suna nins 24/7) _

_Fuck fuck fuck. Now I really want to write that story. _

…_. Maybe just a short chapter? _

_What do you guys think? Wanna read it? _

You can see from my answer that I got a little excited and after having received many answering requests for me to write it, I have decided that I will. That is to say, From the Garden of Gods Kumo AU is coming to you after this chapter (soon)!

6\. Cyber cookies for anyone who drops their takes on how the Go-Ikenban are taking all this demon business from Kagome's world.


	12. Chapter 11: Mistake - Atonement

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Betas: Michelle T., AstaraelDarkrahBlack (They are both shy daisies. Oh my god! Look how they tiptoe around me and each other!)

**Chapter 11: Mistake - Atonement **

* * *

"I did not kill him."

"Your arrow struck Shukaku. It crumbled into dust before our very eyes." It seemed that it didn't take long for the elders of the Go-Ikenban to regain their footing. Even the terrible vision of the youkai infested Sengoku Jidai didn't startle them for more than a few minutes. Already the shock of the vision was fading from their faces. And as it was, they were back to questioning her, to figuring her out.

"He was… hurting… Gaara," she held the hand of the boy who was sitting in her seat, sleeping without a care in the world. Her reiryoku was busy at work, soothing and mending the tears in his soul. "I destroyed his body. I didn't destroy… his heart," she paused once, casting a glance at the redheaded boy. "He lives."

"You're not making any sense, Miko. You are the enemy of all demons. You said so yourself mere moments ago."

Theoretically that was true. The very essences that made the souls of a miko and a demon were directly opposing natural forces, light and dark, fire and water. It was the reason why miko and monks, whose bodies were as frail and mortal as any other normal human being, could hold their own and even triumph over mighty youkai. But reality was not so simple. Not all youkai were evil, just as not all humans were good. From Kagome's personal experience, the most evil of youkai typically were not born as youkai but started life as humans whose corrupted hearts became the birthplace of evil.

Humans such as Onigumo who became the heart of Naraku. Such as the man whose twisted desire for Midoriko became the heart of Magatsuhi, the evil spirit of the Shikon itself. Ironic… but telling all the same.

"Not all demons… are bad… Some just... are..." But her statement seemed to only deepen their confusion.

"What are you saying Miko?" It was Ikanago who spoke from within the Go-Ikenban this time. "Are you saying that some demons… can be good? And that you thought the Shukaku might be such a case… and that is why you spared him?" He wore a look of sheer incredulousness on his face, as if he was hearing some great stupidity proclaimed as truth. She could well imagine why he would think so. After all, she had seen the Shukaku maim and kill and destroy with indiscrimination with her own eyes. She had seen people, old and young, crushed beneath the waves of its sand, and died in terror and pain. The testimony of the orphans more than verified that this was not the first time it had done so. By all rights, she should have killed it. Inuyasha had killed more demons for lesser transgressions than this.

But… Gaara was connected to it, and she didn't know what would happen if she were to destroy the tanuki spirit outright. Besides, something in the anguished cry of the tanuki stayed her hands. It was stark raving mad and not just a little of that madness was caused by the pain of the forced soul bond between it and the child. She might not know a whole lot of the backstory between the Shukaku and Gaara but she was more than sure that the tanuki wanted to be bound to the boy even less than the child himself. Its violent madness was not of its own choice.

There was a momentary pause as Ikanago frowned at her. "What is the other end of the spectrum, then? That some humans can be evil? Will you do the same to the evil humans that you would a demon, Miko? Will you judge them and if you see that they are not as good as you want them to be, you would… what? You would not offer them the same protection as the humans you see as good? Would you shoot them with your arrows as you did the Shukaku? Is that… what you are saying?"

His words were motivated by fear and distrust, the dark shadow of which had not left even after her vision, only thickened around him, but they weren't entirely unfounded. Something that his peers in the Go-Ikenban had immediately picked up on because she could see the keen attention they were paying to her answer.

"No…" said Kagome quietly as she carefully considered her next words. Miko were the natural enemies of demons. Miko killed wicked demons to protect innocent humans. This was the basic principle taught to young miko in training. Even her grandpa, a priest for most of his life in their family shrine, spoke of it. This used to be the teaching she once believed in, before experience had taught her that some monsters were born in the skin of humans and vice versa. She had asked the same questions Ikanago was asking then. If some humans were bad and some youkai good, where then should a miko draw the line?

She hesitated and in the stretched silence could feel the weight of the Go-Ikenban's attention. If she could not adequately answer Ikanago's pointed questions, things would not turn out the way she hoped it would be, and this boy… She glanced at the sleeping Gaara. Who knew what they would do to him? These people who didn't even have a smidge of understanding of youkai and humans and the frailty of the human heart. Who knew what they would do to him after having seen how bad it could be through her memories? She must explain this, somehow, even though her Sand people language wasn't nearly up to the task, even though none of this were simple issues that could be be made clear with just a few words.

More than ever, Kagome cursed her clumsy hold of the Sand people language. But she must try.

"It is… not my place to… to… judge." Kikyo, when confronted with a near dead Onigumo had not condemned him for his crimes. Righteous vengeance and judgement was not their way. Compassion was. Forgiveness was. Kikyo had seen in Onigumo not a wretched criminal but a man in despair who could no longer harm anyone else. She had pitied him, had taken him in then and cared for him. Even when she had been proven wrong later on when Onigumo became Naraku, Kikyo still had not regretted her decision. She had sought to destroy Naraku not out of hatred but because he was a great evil that must be cleansed.

That was the way of the Miko. They were… the guide and protector of souls, not simply killers of youkai. But how to explain that to people who had no such concepts?

She went quiet again, before finally speaking up slowly, hesitantly. "You and I… we do not see… demons… the same way. In your eyes, Shukaku is demon. But my people…" How did Miroku put it again? The principle on which one distinguished a youkai with a heart and a human who was a monster beneath his mortal skin. "... believe that all creatures… beings... that walk the earth has a spirit… and four souls."

They wore puzzled looks on their faces, some with expressions that suggested they wanted to hear none of this drivel, but even so she did not stop. "Aramitama for… courage. Nigimitama for… friendship. Kushimitama, wisdom. Sakimitama… love. If one has no courage, no wisdom, no friendship, no love… then... demon… evil, must be… cleansed."

Laying a hand on the sleeping boy's head, she continued. "Gaara and Shukaku are one. Gaara… has no courage, no wisdom, no friendship… but... he has love" She looked straight at the father whose face had gone pale and still and whose eyes had shuttered off. "Gaara is… loved. His mother… loves him." she repeated, stronger this time. Her voice echoed in the vast chamber, the sound washing over the men of the Go-Ikenban who before this had only looked at her with fear and confusion and doubt. "His heart is… human. And… and… as long as he... possess… a human heart, then I will protect him… with my life."

Looking directly at Ikanago now with a challenge in her eyes, she concluded. "That… is what I'm saying."

* * *

The questions went on and on afterwards, for hours, until she became so visibly tired that Rasa had to stop the proceeding. The Go-Ikenban had many questions and her promise of honesty had only succeeded in making them come forth with their inquiries without restraint.

_How did you come to this world? _

_Via a tear through space_

_Is that tear still out there? In the desert? Can anything just come through to this side from your world? _

_No, it was open for mere seconds only. And it will never open again. _

_If it was open for only seconds, why then are you here? What happened to you? _

_I got… lost. I stumbled. I am here. Does it matter? The demons from my world will not find their way here._

_Do you want to go back?_

_I can… never… go back. _

_Why? Because you cannot open up that tear again? _

_Yes and… no. I chose… here. I chose… to stay. _

_You just said you got lost and stumbled. _

_Both. I stumbled. I chose. The end is the same. I am here. I can never go back._

_You are not making a whole lot of sense._

_I am honest. Whether you believe… is your choice._

_Who was that woman at the end of your memories?_

_Midoriko… the strongest of us. _

_The strongest? _

_The strongest. You have seen her… power. _

_What has become of her?_

_She's dead. Fell in battle against… many demons. _

_What is your relationship with her? Is she your mother? You look alike._

_I… she… _

…

_.._

…_._

_You cannot answer that? _

_It's…. complicated._

_It's a yes or no question. _

_It's complicated._

…

…

_..._

_Can anybody become a miko? _

_Not everyone. Some are born with the… power. Some not. _

_Are there many miko in your world? _

_Not… many. Not ones with… true power. _

_True power? Meaning they cannot fight demons? They are… what? Stand-ins? _

_Not all miko are… the same. Some are born strong. Some… not. The strong ones fight demons. The other ones still do… many things. Protect the people, care for them. They are miko all the same. It is not… the… the power that makes the miko. It is her will... her choice. _

_How powerful are you compared to other miko? _

Kagome laughed bitterly at this question. She had never before been asked such a thing but somehow, it made sense that warriors like them would first be concerned with how strong a subject was regardless of whether that strength actually mattered. She had half a mind to not answer, but she did promise to do so to the best of her abilities, so after a minute of consideration, she said.

_Powerful… but sometimes… that is not enough. _

…_. Let us rephrase that question. How strong are you compared to… say… Midoriko, your 'it's-complicated' mother? _

_She…. ahhhh…. _If anything, they were persistent. The relationship between Midoriko and Kagome was far more complicated than can be summed up in a single word, but if the Go-Ikenban were set on believing what they wanted, then there was little she could do to dissuade them.

…

…

… _I am as... powerful. But, I lack… experience. _

_This Miko ki, this purification, is it hereditary? _

…_. Yes…._

When they finally let her out the door of the chamber, Kagome was dearly missing the fur filled bed in her room at the temple. She could feel the drag of her feet and the pull on her eyelids. The weight of Gaara in her arms, which had not been light even before the interrogation, was like lead. It had been a long day.

Rasa accompanied her out as he closed the door to the chamber. He didn't say a word, simply walked beside her in the long corridor. The silence between them felt oppressive, even more so than before she walked into that meeting with the Go-Ikenban. He had been angry then but her statement regarding his son back there in the meeting… something about it had set him off even further. But he was not a man who would let anger get the best of him and so he kept it to himself. This silence, as if cement was poured into the space between them and frozen there, was the result of it.

As they came into a chamber whose door she remembered would eventually lead to the outside, Rasa stopped.

"Leave the boy," he said. "And go home Miko." And when he saw her hesitation, reminded her firmly as he held out his hands. "I am his father."

Only then and with some reluctance did Kagome hand the boy over to the father who, now that she paid extra scrutiny to him, handled his own child with a stiff, slightly ginger way that made her question her decision right on the spot. Before she could say a word on that however, the door behind her back creaked and she heard the soft footsteps of people enterring. Turning, she saw the faces of her maidens in the glow of the electric light.

Oren stood at the head, her clothes rumpled and legs streaked with sand and dirt. The girls behind her looked no better, and Yuhi… Yuhi was not looking at Kagome. The moment their eyes met across the room for a split second, she immediately looked down at the floor, a stricken look flashing in her eyes.

"Kazekage-sama, Kagome-sama," Oren started, hands clasped together in a clear militaristic pose, her head bowed, eyes downcast. That was as far as she got before the Kazekage's fury crashed down upon her.

"Now you come?" There were razors in Rasa's voice, razors that weren't there moments before when he was talking to Kagome. His face, which had not softened one bit, had gained an unforgiving edge as he cast a scathing look at the warrior maidens before him. An incredible weight entered the chamber where they stood, invisible and crushing, as if boulders had found their way in and were pushing down upon their shoulders. The moment it registered, Oren and the girls dropped down on one knee, their heads bowed so low she couldn't even see their faces. "Hours after your charge went missing and turned up at the last place she was supposed to b—"

"Please… stop…" For the first second, she was not even aware that she had spoken up, but the moment the pressure turned and directed its full attention on her was unmistakable. Though she had been in this land for near a year, Kagome still found it shocking that the humans of this world, despite their wholly mortal bodies, could sometimes exude the immense presence of great youkai. Rasa looked her in the eye, his face stoney. It was quiet in the chamber, two in the morning and for but a moment she thought she would collapse under the pressure of his black rage. The moment passed and she found herself standing tall, facing him, weary and weathered, but undaunted.

"You are… not upset with them. You are… upset… with me," she said, stuttering her way through the sentence. His presence was vast and it bore down on her with the weight of mountains. Even so, she did not stop. "They have… have… nothing to do with this. I ran away. I made the choice. So… so.. whatever you have to say… you should… only look at me… when you say it."

He said not a word in reply, but even in his silence she could feel his intention, like steel blades grazing her skin. He reeked still of metal and sand and old blood, old wounds, old hurts. That scent had never stopped following him around. She had only just grown used to it the way she did Inuyasha and Kouga and Miroku whose body was filled with poison and miasma at the tail end of their journey.

Then, without warning, he took a step forward, into her space. She recoiled out of instinct. The suddenness of her movement seemed to please him somehow. When he spoke next, there was a dark promise in the tone of his voice.

"You are dear to me and my people, Miko. Never forget it. But you cannot keep flouting my will without expecting… repercussions."

Repercussions? At this, Kagome suddenly felt a sense of irrational irritation washing over her. Repercussions? For what? For saving his child and the people of his village? For not going along with his unreasonably paranoid and ultimately unhelpful orders? She had not felt this way in a long time, her near death experience having put most things into a more distant perspective.

"If you… if you had… heard my request the first time, I wouldn't have had to… to run away and make a big… thing. I just… wanted to see Gaara. If you had heard me out… I wouldn't have had to… this! I wouldn't have had to do… this… this thing!" She gesticulated, at first slow and stilted, then the movements of her hands grew wild as her irritation stepped into the territory of anger.

Kagome, very much to her own surprise, was feeling furious for the first time in a very long while. She was exhausted, and short on both sleep and food. It was two in the morning and she had had a long day. And these people, these distrustful old men of swords and knives would not stop pushing no matter how considerate she had been. She had even refrained from asking them how this boy and the tanuki came to be joined because she thought such sensitive matters would prove too much to people who had only just discovered youkai and miko and everything else in between. But did they understand it? No! And even now, as she humored their questions and requests every which way she could, this child, who was hanging from the shoulder of his father like a sack of potatoes, still had a fractured soul and she still hadn't been able to do a single thing about that… and… and... who the hell carried their own child like that?!

"You did what you had to because of what I did? You wouldn't if I had heard you out? Complete nonsense," said Rasa, unheeding of Kagome's mounting temper, or perhaps he simply did not care. "I am the Kazekage. These are my soldiers, and they have failed my order. And you… you are a little girl who understands _**nothing**_ of this village."

This time, it was Kagome who stepped into his personal space, her face flushed and hands trembling as they clenched tight. "I…" she half yelled, half hissed. "I am the only one who can help this child! I am the only one who can help you! And you just won't … listen!"

His response was immediate this time. The hand that curled itself around the column of her neck moved faster than she could see. Distantly, Kagome heard the yell of Oren and the sound of scuffles at her back.

"Kazekage-sama!"

She could hear the naked panic in Oren's voice, her honest concern for Kagome fully exposed. But Oren's worry was for naught. Rasa's hand around her neck might be a mirror image of what happened between them months ago when they first met, but there was no pressure behind it and even as Kagome glared him down, she could see the anger bleeding from his face, to be replaced with an inquisitive curiosity.

"Do you remember this, Miko?" In the silence thereafter, he spoke, his voice blank, the overwhelming force behind it tightly reined in. "Even when I was trying to kill you back then, you would not even raise your voice for your own life. You are raising your voice now. For this boy? Why?"

He could not have known it, but his question cut Kagome and her budding anger to the core. She made to turn her head from his gaze but he stopped her. Beneath the tight hold of his hand, her breath pulsed and fell into staccato.

"You have only just met. You could not have spoken more than a handful of sentences to him. But you would get angry for his sake? You would go against me for him? What meaning could Gaara hold to you, Miko?"

Yes, back then, she was not concerned that she was about to be killed, that the Kazekage's chokehold on her throat was pushing her slowly but surely into death by asphyxiation. She did not necessarily want to die in such manners but death, her own physical death, at the time and even now did not scare her like it used to. A good death would have solved so many things she had done, but she kept on because of that promise. But… this boy… this was different. This she cared about.

"Because…" she started, stopped, then started again. "Because I made… a mistake. I made a mistake. And everyone I knew is dead." Her voice was hoarse and weak, not because of Rasa's hand around her throat but because of the memories welling up behind her eyes. She had gone such a long time too without thinking back on it once again. "I'm the only one… left. I'm the only one… who survived. I can't... " Her gaze went from the face of the father to the face of the son in his other arm. Kagome felt the eyes of all in the room upon her as she focused her attention on the red-haired boy.

"I can't… make the same mistake… again."

The hand around her neck loosened, went up to her cheeks where it gently wiped away the tears she hadn't even realized were there before withdrawing completely. When Rasa spoke next, he appeared to be caught in deep thoughts as he studied her face.

"Go home, Miko." He made a gesture to the warrior maidens behind her. "The Go-Ikenban will decide what shall be done with Gaara."

* * *

He dropped the boy off with Baki before heading back to the chamber where the Go-Ikenban still waited. As he came in, he could see that the men and women of the Suna R&amp;D lab had finished with their examination of the Miko ki collected from the barraged Sunyard and was now handing out copies of the preliminary research report. Sitting down in his chair, he picked up his copies and made a quick pass through it. The facts they found were both expected and surprising. When he lifted his head, the attention of the entire Go-Ikenban was on him. Some members wore the face of consideration, others concern or outright uneasiness. He couldn't blame them. This Miko ki, whose powers they had just glimpsed, was a force whose potentials could hold unimaginable consequences for the people of Suna. That it could completely suppress the dark chakra of a biju, beyond even their most powerful seal, was simply the beginning.

He looked to the clock by the wall. It read 2:45AM. This night would prove to be much longer than he thought.

"Before we discuss what shall be done in regards to Gaara, the Miko, and her request concerning him, we must all agree on one thing," he started the second row of their discussion, this time without the presence of the girl who started it all. "That it was Miko Kagome Higurashi who subdued Shukaku, that she possesses a power beyond chakra, that this power is hereditary by blood. None of these facts will escape the walls of this room."

What he requested was a feat far more difficult to pull off than the usual sweep and hide missions, but they were ninja and misinformation was their everyday bread and butter. That it was the safety of this village on the line simply made it even more important that they kept the information to themselves until a time where they knew they could favorably control the outcome of the eventual revelation arrived.

"Agreed," replied the majority of the council men.

"That would be difficult," commented Yura, the new Go-Ikenban member in charge of security and border patrol. "She did just waste the Shukaku in front of the entire village… in three shots…"

"In the middle of a virtual sandstorm," Rasa responded. "... and clearly seen by no more than the two thousand civilians still stuck within the market square. The ninja will have their orders. As to the civilians, they are citizens of a hidden village. They know their place."

It would be difficult, but not impossible, not to ninja well versed in the art of genjutsu and misdirection. If they had a clan within their village with abilities similar to the Konohan Yamanaka, it would be even easier to erase the event of today afternoon from the minds of a couple thousand civilians, but they could make do without it.

"The other hidden villages will know something happened eventually."

"I expect so," he said easily, leaning back in his chair to ease the tension. "They wouldn't be named among the great five hidden villages if they could not detect something so singularly important taking place in our village."

But knowing that something had happened was entirely different from knowing exactly what had happened—the who, the how, the why, the when, and where. It was this information he sought to keep out of the opposition's hands. The Biju were the greatest weapons in the arsenal of the ninja world. Anything that could affect them was, therefore, sensitive information of the highest caliber. To keep it under wraps and within the confines of his village, Rasa was prepared to pay in lives.

"Whatever rumors or cults arise from the Miko's action today, we can circumvent with misinformation and misdirection. The location of the Miko's home is not known to the village or even to most ninja of lower ranks," he continued. "The ultimate purpose of the Miko's protection squad is to hide her identity in the first place. And when it comes to it…" Which it probably would if Rasa's experience had anything to say. "... any one of those girls would suffice as body doubles for the Miko. As long as the honored members of this council do not… overreach," he cast a look at the Go-Ikenban before him, going from face to face. "I expect us to be able to keep the truly important part of today's event from reaching unwanted ears before we are ready."

That got the few who had refrained the first time to nod their heads in assent. It was a simple enough decision made clearly for the good of the village. Now came the complicated part.

"Is it true that the Shukaku still exists within the jinchuuriki? Have we confirmed that it is so?" asked Joseki.

"We have," reported Goza to which Rasa nodded. The moment that the Miko had left the premises, sand clouds began gathering around Gaara. A clear sign of Shukaku's lingering power. The Go-Ikenban took this with varying degrees of relief and concern on their faces. On one hand, the potential loss of such a tactically valuable weapon; on the other, it would have been the end of the greatest compromise to their village security. If only it was not his blood and flesh in question…

"Then, shall we discuss that which must be on everyone's mind right now?" Joseki continued. "She has requested that she be kept in close contact with the jinchuriki. Considering all that we know of her… as well as all that we don't, the dilemma which faces us and our village is then this: do we grant her request? How shall we handle the Miko and the Jinchuuriki moving into the future? And now that we know for sure the Miko's power is carried in her bloodline… what do we do with it?"

Yes, that would be the crux of this second point of contention between the members of the Go-Ikenban, the most difficult part of all this. Rasa nodded, and braced himself.

* * *

In the end, they never quite agreed on any specific answers to the multiple dilemmas set out by Joseki. The Miko's power and its yet unknown nature had split the Go-Ikenban into three factions: the conservatives who called for further sequestration of the Miko and immediate cut off of any contacts between her and Suna Jinchuuriki; the experimentalists who argued that the Miko had been cooperative thus far and a cooperative Miko would prove far more beneficial to Sunagakure as a whole. They knew that they had much to learn about her and her power, said these Go-Ikenban members, and she in turn had much more to give to Sunagakure. Lastly were those in-betweens who advocated a wait-and-see approach as a way to provoke the Miko, still just a young girl alone in a strange land despite her power, into revealing more about herself.

"We certainly have suffered losses today, but in the long term, these losses are insignificant. On the other hand, had today's events not transpired, we likely would not have learned of her powers other than her ability to grow crops in a dead land until it was too late. She only revealed this side of herself when she needed something other than what was given to her. I say leave her in peace for now, but monitor her carefully. She may yet reveal other aspects of her power that we don't know about," argued Goza who was squarely in the wait-and-see camp.

Before that, they had debated whether the Miko's vision was entirely true. There were a few who had questioned its authenticity and suggested that at least some of what they had seen was a product of a young girl's imagination and not an experience from real life. That might be true, Rasa concurred, but on the other hand, how would they explain what had happened in the middle of the village no more than half a day before? That she possessed a power completely unrelated to chakra was an irrefutable fact. The horrific world she showed them might be straining their abilities to believe but conversely, it made perfect sense for such a demon-infested world to give birth to a power that was the natural opposition of demons.

This was all before they even got into the topic of what to do with such an odd power inheritable by blood, and that—out of all the topics on the table—was the ugliest one of the lot. They called an end to the meeting after hours of intense and back and forth discussion that lead to voices being raised more than once. Whatever their disagreements, it would take more than just a single meeting of the Go-Ikenban to conclude them all.

When Rasa finally walked out the door of the meeting hall, it was a quarter past five in the morning. Baki waited for him by the door as he came out, and without saying a word, accompanied him through the corridors.

"How is Gaara?"

"Asleep. Still." Said Baki.

"The seal?"

"Stable. We can detect the presence of the Shukaku but it's weak. Very weak," he paused once. "The... Miko's power hasn't left. It has faded but even now, some still lingers."

Rasa merely nodded to acknowledge his concern.

"Pardon me for the question, Lord Kazekage, but… you don't seem surprised by this new development."

If it had been anybody else who asked him this question, he might have simply shut them off, but Baki was a trusted comrade, the man who Rasa had entrusted the tutelage and safety of his children to. "Miko Higurashi's power, when we first learned of it, was compared to the power of the Shodaime Hokage Hashirama Senju. As the man in question held influence over the Biju, I suspected the Miko may hold similar powers. It was not a great leap of logic."

Baki had no reply but Rasa could see him regarding his Kazekage from the corner of his eyes. What Baki did not ask was 'If you had suspected it, why then did you not tell the members of the Go-Ikenban?'. Whatever the answer might be, Baki was sure that he was not prepared to even consider approaching such a sensitive subject with his Kazekage.

"Keep an eye on her, Baki," Rasa said simply. "Likely you and your team will see more of the Miko… soon."

"You intend to push the issues in her favor in future meetings with the Go-Ikenban then?" There was the slightest hint of surprise in the jounin's voice.

"I do." She might not look like it, but the Miko was stubborn and would only do what she wanted because she wanted it. If the Go-Ikenban decided to forbid her access to Gaara, Kami knew what she would do to circumvent their will. On the other hand, if he directed the Go-Ikenban into granting at least part of her request, he could keep her happy and in place. That her contact with Gaara could only come while under the supervision of Baki would simply put her deeper into the sphere of his influence and not that of any other members of the Go-Ikenban.

It was not something spoken of in polite conversation, nor a usual topic of discussion even among the jounin of the village, but the relationship between the reigning Kazekage and the concurrent Go-Ikenban was more often than not, complicated. In theory, the Go-Ikenban was a council of seasoned jounin and village members who helped the Kazekage in the administration of Sunagakure. In terms of power, both the Go-Ikenban and the office of Kazekage held equal power with neither truly outranking the other. The council itself existed as a check of the current Kazekage's power. If the Kazekage's rule proved the reign of a destructive tyrant, or if the Kazekage had been compromised by foreign forces, that would be when the Go-Ikenban were allowed the power to choose a new replacement for the Kazekage seat.

This power had been used only once in the entire history of the village. When Sandaime Kazekage disappeared, it had thrown the entire village into disarray, ultimately dragging them into the Third Ninja World War itself. Rasa had been the chosen replacement of the Go-Ikenban of that time.

In real practice however, powerful and ambitious men the likes of them probably couldn't inhabit the same space for too long without testing their fangs against each other. There had always existed a current of competition and power play between the Go-Ikenban and the Kazekage as well as among individual council members themselves.

This was ultimately what Rasa wanted to keep the Miko out of. The worst thing that could happen to the little Miko would be for her to become a piece in the political jockeying that went on in the highest stratum of Sunagakure leadership. He knew, the moment it became clear that her power was more than an endless food source in the desert, that the hyenas would come as if summoned by the scent of fresh blood. There were those in the ninja world who would not think twice about ripping a valuable bloodline from a young bearer. The gentle, polite way to go about it would be through forced breeding, with the definition of forced depending on the individuals. But there were other faster, and more efficient ways. After all, in the eyes of these men, the start of a bloodline ultimately boiled down to only a functioning and mature reproductive organ. The body attached to it was a nice addition but not always necessary.

It was gruesome and despicable to even men like Rasa, who had gone through horrific wars and lived to tell the tale as a bearer of a rare bloodline himself. But it was also one of the realities of the world they lived in. None within the Go-Ikenban had even mentioned it as a solution of course, but he knew that it hovered in the back of their minds the moment their discussion entered the territory of bloodlines and ensuring this Miko ki stayed within Sunagakure. This was what he wanted to keep the Miko away from. She was a child, stubborn and sure of her way, who knew nothing of the demons that inhabited _this _world. This was the reason why she must be protected, even when it was against her own wishes.

* * *

**End Chapter 11**

* * *

1\. From the Garden of Gods Kumo AU is getting out of hand. You probably won't see it anytime soon. I blame it on whoever sent me that ask on how I would characterize Jashin as seen by Kagome.

2\. Next chapter: the answer from the Go-Ikenban, the Maharra festival, and a Miko appears before the Sungakure public for the first time. Also, an emissary from the newborn Otogakure. The Red Dawn lurks at the border of the desert.

3\. Kagome gets angry for the first time in From the Garden of Gods. As Rasa pointed out, this is unusual considering her past behavior. We will learn what exactly happened to Kagome in the Inuyasha world in about… probably 2 or 3 chapters. The person who provokes her into touching that part of her memories again is +drumrolls+ Gaara! (As said in previous chapter and in the summary of From the Garden of Gods Kumo AU, Gaara is the catalyst and reason that Kagome slowly becomes truly concerned and involved in the affairs of Naruto ninja world)

4\. This chapter, Yura the leak appears (check your Naruto Shippuden knowledge for who he is).

5\. I read Gaara Hiden. It was very interesting and the new information it provided was used for further building a clear image and role of the Go-Ikenban in Sunagakure. I'm pretty sure that some of that is not exactly canon though because nowhere in canon Shippuden was it stated that Ebizo (Chiyo's brother) was the leader of the Go-Ikenban. He wasn't even there when the Go-Ikenban held that meeting to discuss the kidnapping of Gaara in Shippuden! He was too busy fishing from a well with no fish!

6\. What do you think about Kagome's explanation on what constitutes an 'evil demon' and the reason why she protects Gaara? How do you think the Go-Ikenban will take it? And, this is the suggestion of a reviewer, but if the name Go-Ikenban is too difficult for you (FYI I didn't invent that name), just call them the GI not Joe.

7\. Last question of the day. Where are you (yes you, who are reading this sentence at the end of the chapter) from? Lately I have been receiving reviews and PMs in languages I could not make heads or tails of without the aid of google translate. That got me looking into the nationality section of my readers and it's a delight to see so many countries in there, some I have never even heard of (Hello Aruba, Bahrain, and Tajikistan whose single reader has read the last chapter of From the Garden of Gods a total of 40 times!)


	13. Chapter 12: The Quiet After 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Betas: Michelle T., AstaraelDarkrahBlack

**Chapter 12: The Quiet After - The Quiet Before (Part 1)**

* * *

They made the return to the temple from the Kazekage's office with haste, travelling under the guise of the night. Oren carried Kagome in her arms as she leapt silently from rooftop to rooftop, flanked by her similarly mute comrades. No one said a word of the day's incident but at that time, Kagome was too tired and sleepy to say anything about it.

The second day brought with it the impact of her actions the day before. Everyone walked on eggshells around her and talked to her with a reservation that hadn't been there ever since they first came to her as her companions, protectors, friends. Where there was once fond acceptance, there now was uncertainty. The maidens were distant once again, their months spent in close proximity together having been suddenly erased by Kagome's effortlessly neutralizing one of them in a time of need. Yuhi, who had come out of the whole incidence without so much as a scratch on her, would spend much of her time flinching while in Kagome's presence.

"Are you… upset?" It took Kagome until late evening of the second day to scrounge up the courage and faced Oren with the question on her mind while the other woman rebandaged the palm Rasa cut with a clean roll of soft spun linen after rubbing it down in oil of myrrh. The cut was clean but deep and she ached still from the open wound. It was yet one more reminder that this body was wholly mortal. She could feel the weight of stares on the cut, her maidens seemingly coming to the same conclusion that she was flesh and blood just like them, softer even.

"Upset? Because you ran away from the orphanage and left us behind?"

"... Yes…"

The warrioress looked at her then, her gaze long and slow and weighted before it slid past her shoulders to come rest on the faces of her comrades sitting behind Kagome in the same room. A minute passed before Oren looked back at her charge once again and said.

"I think the word you are looking is… resent, isn't it? Do… we... " Her 'we' was weighted with pointed intention. "...resent you for making us fail our task?"

Very slowly, Kagome nodded.

"How can we?" said Oren "When we kept you against your wishes." Bringing her nicely rebandaged hand up high and laying a soft kiss against the cloth covered palm of her hand, Oren spoke quietly.

"Miko-sama is dear to my heart. I would never do that as long as I draw breath…" There was a pause, heavy and fraught, before she continued. "Miko-sama is her own person. She doesn't know a whole lot about my world but her freedom is sacrosanct. I cannot tell her where she must go or what she must do. I can only do my best to keep her safe. But… if, one day, for whatever reason, she were to decide to leave us, then it would greatly sadden me."

Kagome had never once harbored any delusions concerning the purpose of her maidens. She knew, just from the sharp tones of their bodies and the easy way they handled knives, whether inside or outside of the kitchen, that their work likely involved violence and bloodshed of some kind. It was that kind of world she was in. That did not subtract from the fact that each and every one of them were decent people and their fondness of her was genuine in nature. Still, to suddenly have their previously gentle plant-growing charge revealed as less than perfectly harmless must be a shock that was not easy to get over. She sensed more than saw the slightest flicker in the expressions of the maidens after Oren's quiet but staunch declaration, but they too stayed silent.

It would take time, but she hoped that they would soon be able to return to the easy semi-friendship they once had. The people of Suna had taken every care to ensure her a comfortable life but this room, this temple, this status as the provider of many of the village was a lonely place to be.

.

.

.

Her trips out of the temple were all cancelled for the day, even her usual walks across the fields and gardens hanging above the mesas surrounding the village. When she asked why, Oren simply shook her head and told her it was a complicated scene outside right now with the cleanup effort after the tanuki's rampage going on. A part of the market square had collapsed and would need a quick rebuild. A couple fuel and grain silos had also taken hits and needed a patch-up. There were also people stuck under sand dunes and collapsed buildings waiting for rescue and medical care. All this in addition the construction and preparation for the festival that was to take place in mere weeks. Too many new faces, too many things going on, too many things could go wrong, would probably go wrong if people got wind that the Miko was walking out in public.

When Kagome asked to come out and help with the clean up too, Oren simply shook her head and said, "You are but one more hand in a thousand. I've seen you do manual work. Your magic doesn't help you there." Oren took her hand, turned it till her bandage palm was face up, the red line where Rasa cut her plain to see. "If you truly so desire to go, I will carry you out there myself and plunge my hands into the rubble by your side, but if Kagome-sama would deign to hear me; the people can take care of themselves in this case. They too, would not want to bother you with things that they could take care of by themselves. Stay. Stay here where we can keep you safe."

It was frustrating but Kagome didn't want to push them so soon after what she had to do to Yuhi and the stunning revelation of her miko abilities.

"Will you… at least tell me how… Gaara is doing?"

"Last I heard, the boy had been returned home, and sleeps still," said Oren. "But I can request updates for you."

"Please do. I want to know. I want to know more about him."

Rasa never came for the usual nightly language lesson. Oren told her it was because the Kazekage had been busy directing the cleanup and rescue efforts in the village today. That might be true but Kagome wondered if that was it or perhaps he wanted to make a statement about 'repercussions' and such. That might sound childish of her to think so of the man, but if she knew him—and she thought she had a fair idea what kind of man her taciturn guardian was—then mind games like that would just be right up his alley.

On the second day, they could hear the sounds of construction—of massive stones being moved and waves of sand shifted about and beams of metal bending to commands—coming from outside through the few windows in Kagome's quarters at the back of the temple. At around midday, Oren came with news.

Gaara was awake… and well. That was all Oren would say on the subject before veering to other topics. The rebuilding of the central market square and other buildings collapsed during the tanuki's rampage was in full swing. It seemed most, if not all, of the people missing in the chaos were accounted for. Some were in the hospital. Some had died before help could reach them. A few more children would soon be admitted into the village's now incredibly well supplied orphanage. But many more yet lived and were unharmed. The Go-Ikenban had been holding daily meetings, apparently furiously discussing the particulars of some concord among them. Most likely it had something to do with her and her request to be allowed contact with the boy whose soul was merged with the tanuki. For the moment, it seemed Kagome's confrontation and swift curbing of the tanuki had been completely covered up by the state. Though the minute-long clash had been of epic proportion and out in the public under clear daylight, it had also transpired within a localized sandstorm courtesy of the tanuki's power. Aside from Rasa, the Suna warriors accompanying him, and the two thousand civilians stuck within the market, the rest of the village had been herded off to safe houses or underground bunkers and so had seen nothing.

By the words of the village's upper echelons, it was the Kazekage who subdued the rampaging Shukaku as usual. For the most part, the village people believed in the words of their leaders. There were rumors still of course, of the Desert Spirit in human form pacifying the terrible beast with some mythical power never before seen, but without definite proof and against years of the very same beast being brought to heel by their Kazekage, the rumor never quite took off except within specific circles, the orphanage being one of them.

"Your little guide to the market had quite the tale to regale his friends with it seemed," Oren remarked. For the moment, most of the village remained ignorant of her power. It was just as well. She had never wanted anyone to know, being well aware that it could attract attention of the unsavory kind. That she even used her Miko ki in broad daylight and with so many witnesses had been a product of circumstance and not of choice.

From the farms, fields and orchards atop the mesas came wreaths of flowers, pots of fresh honey, fruits with their stems still oozing sap, and many many well-wishes and concerned inquiries of her health. The plants and trees were doing well in Kagome's absence though her presence was dearly missed by the farmers and gardeners that undertook their daily tending.

Rasa-sama, said Oren, would not be coming for a few days. The leader of Sunagakure was fully occupied with village repairs, the encroaching Maharra which would not be postponed except for war or great calamities, and the lengthy meetings with the Go-Ikenban. Likely he would not visit but for another week. While he was preoccupied—said the order from a sealed missive in Oren's hand in ever so polite phrasing—Miko Kagome Higurashi was not to leave the perimeter of Saruka temple regardless of circumstances. For her protection and welfare, additional guards, doctors, and other attendants were stationed right outside of her quarters.

In other words, she had been effectively placed under tacit house arrest.

Oren touched Kagome's hand as she watched emotions—first shock, then frustration followed by a hint of anger—flit by on her charge's face.

"It's only for a week," she said, "Things are hectic right now. Taking recent events into consideration, Kazekage-sama must worry that you would act… rashly. I hear things are tense in the Go-Ikenban meetings. Matters concerning Gaara-sama aren't things that even the honorable Kazekage-sama could decide by himself. He'll be back before you know it and then we will go see Gaara-sama… together."

Her voice was soft, spoken with the slow, placid tone that one would use to console a child. It had the opposite effect on Kagome however. She was no child to be consoled and her request not one made on a whim.

"And if… he doesn't allow me to see Gaara?" said Kagome quietly. "If he… would not hear me again. What then, Oren?"

The eldest and most perceptive of Kagome's maidens gave her a long, slow look that went on for a full minute before finally replying.

"Then I will not stop you the next time you decide to… make him listen to you."

* * *

In Rasa's absence, Kagome gained another language teacher in his stead. On the second night, Temari appeared before her, wearing a mixture of uncertainty and awkwardness on her face. In her hands she held stacks of books and a box, and looking shyly at Kagome while surrounded by the maidens, she said her greeting.

"Hi… you.. remember me right? From the other day?"

"Yes. You are Temari." Rasa's daughter though she favored him little in looks. Temari was her mother's spitting image. The same hair, the same face, with eyes that were just a little more fierce. A direct result of being her father's daughter most likely. "We never really got to... talk that day, did we? I should have… at least sent words to you. I'm sorry." Then she made a gesture at the seat by the low table where her lessons were usually conducted. "Come sit!"

"Your pronunciation improved," Temari cracked a tentative smile as she sat down on the plush cushions by the table. The crooked smile fit better on her face than the previous look of uncertainty. "Your grammar too."

"I have nothing else to do… these days," replied Kagome, frowning as she made a vague gesture at the room they now sat in. "I cannot go out. I want to but... Kazekage-san is..." she wracked her memory for that one phrase she had heard Mokoto yelling at a recalcitrant Mei over something they had both been too embarrassed to explain. "... bullheaded old man! He would not listen."

Temari gave off a barking laugh, as if surprised.

"Yes, dad can be... " she coughed, smiling and relaxing a little. "... frustrating at times."

"Bullheaded. Unreasonably... pa… paranoid. Don't know how to listen."

Somewhere in the back, Mei tried in vain to stifle her snickers. Temari however simply nodded sagely in agreement.

"Well, he probably is right you know? Everyone is talking about you these days. People are excited to see your first public appearance. If you go out now and people know who you are, it might just cause a big commotion and nobody wants that after a Shukaku episode."

She laid the books on the table, patting them affectionately.

"Anyhow, he's not going to be around for at least another week. So I'm here to fill in for him. Dad said you liked tales and stories."

She did. Despite her grounded temperament, Kagome had always been too fond of fantastic tales of otherworldly realms and people for her own good. Modern day Tokyo could be a terribly dull place, especially for a schoolgirl whose life revolved mostly around the mundane. It was this fondness that initially got Kagome to commit herself to following Inuyasha around in their wild goose chase across the Sengoku Jidai. Rasa, who apparently owned an entire library in his private residence, had capitalized on this and taught her the Sand people language through myriads of stories. He would read to her once or twice and then let her read it herself. That way, Kagome would steadily absorb the words and writing and culture that were part and parcel of the stories. They were simple tales, probably mundane by the standards of the local people, but to Kagome who knew little of their world, they verged on the border of being delightfully outlandish fables.

Modern Tokyo certainly had no humans that could move around mountains and grow crystal out of sand. Neither did the Sengoku Jidai for that matter. Add in the fact that Kagome rarely ever got to travel and see things in this new world, those books had been the sole window through which she saw the lives of the people of this world.

They had started out with nursery rhymes and children story books. In the last two months, Kagome had made her way into the territory of short and simple Suna folk tales. The books Temari brought however, looked nothing like the usual leather bound tomes that came from her father. These books were a little more in line with what Kagome used to see through the glass windows of downtown Tokyo. All glossy covers and bold, colorful prints, bearing titles such as 'Chunin Girl', 'Adventures in Nadeshiko country', 'Maybe in Another Hidden Village', and 'Confessions of a she-ANBU'.

"What is this?" asked Kagome, picking up the one on top the stack. A slim volume with the illustration of a pretty warrioress surrounded by… chains and kunais? And there were maybe two or three warriors in the background with varying expressions of pain and yearning on their faces and they were all… shirtless?... and glistening? And they all had some very amazing abs painted in great details…

Behind Kagome, Mei sputtered incoherently. "Are those…"

"Best-selling kunoichi lit…" offered Temari tentatively, her face flushed and her voice wavering between embarrassed and eager. "I thought you would be fed up with all the boring books from dad's part of the library. He can be very… um… old fashioned, so he can't really be counted on to know what girls our age like. So I… uh… somebody I know assured me these are all the rage with the girls these days. I checked them out. They should have a lot of… a lot of… new vocabulary that you haven't learned from the other books…"

"New vocabulary indeed. Do they include words like 'heaving' or 'throbbing' or 'glistening'?" commented Mokoto as she opened one and skimmed the pages. "They do!" She announced mere seconds later.

"Oh…" said Kagome, face red like a tomato. Across from her, Temari was in no better shape but the girl was soldiering on regardless, though her voice now came out in a high-pitched barely discernible string of sounds.

"... The setting is closer to modern day Suna than those old folk tales dad usually brought you. These are… okay… a little saucy yeah, but it's good fun right? And I hear that people tend to learn things faster if they really enjoy the learning process and every girl I talked to really really enjoyed these books and… and—oh god, please-don't-tell-father-I-bought-these..."

By this time, Mei's snickering and gasping had become full blown, hysterical guffaws. Yuhi, who was sitting by her long time friend, was shaking with barely restrained laughter. The commotion drew the rest of the maidens to the living room where they cluttered around the red faced Temari and Kagome and the glossy, conspicuous books on the table.

"Is that the new Fifty Ways to Use Chains and Kunais for Pleasure by S-Class Madame?" Aiki started, gasping scandalously. "Temari-hime I had no idea you were…" Her comment effectively kickstarted a twittering ruckus among the warrior maidens.

"You know who S-Class Madame is, Aiki?" Yuhi ribbed her fellow warrioress with teasing eyes. "Something you haven't told us huh?"

"Of course not! I just! I mean… my cousin read it and told me about it. Yeah!"

"Your cousin, huh?"

"Ooh, I haven't read this one yet," Mokoto cut in with her nose buried in between the pages. "I hear she put in a twenty-page long torture scene using just chains and kunai. Is that true? In her previous book she wrote about which poisons to use for a first date picnic. A bit of Night Wind and a bit of Shimmering Oasis make just about any guy thinks he's out of breath and lightheaded by your looks and charms. S-Class Madame really is very creative with her ninja tools. She doesn't waste anything ever. A true Sunagakure kunoichi! If I hadn't read her books I wouldn't even have known _**that **_could be done!"

"Then you should have read her debut novella," Chiyome advised, throwing a sly smile at her comrades. "She was showing how to strip a guy of his armour and have him hog-tied and helpless in under three minutes using just a spool of ninja wire or chakra string. Handy in _**and**_ out of the battlefield. That book is soooo popular with the girls of the puppet brigade and I hear it has become something of a cult classic with the ladies from Konoha medic corps."

"Temari-hime, if your father knew…" Temari was so red Kagome thought steam was going to come out of her ears any moment now. Still, the embarrassed smile on her face hadn't yet disappeared. "He might just attempt to get the press shut down and set ANBU on uncovering S-Class Madame's real identity. These books really aren't appropriate for girls your age, yet you know of them? Should have waited a couple more years but you have always been an overachiever, haven't you?"

That was when the conversation abruptly changed course.

"Wait a minute. Are these even appropriate for Kagome-sama?" Hirano cut in, the quietest of all seven maidens; she could go on an entire day without uttering a single word. As a result, in the rare occasion that she did speak up, others in the group tended to pay attention. Immediately all eyes in the room focused on Kagome who squirmed under the sudden scrutiny.

"Umm…" said Kagome, face hot and tongue tied and looking anywhere but the books with their tempting, glossy covers.

"You dumbass! She's the same age as us!" Yuhi came to her rescue. Surprising considering they hadn't exchanged a word since the incident at the orphanage.

"But she's civilian… She's like… eighteen now right? That's legal age for civilians right?" Apparently the people of Suna had two separate standards to define who was underage and who was of age, and Kagome was deemed squarely in the other more fragile and slower growing category.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Chiyome protested. "The point is… does Kagome-san like those kinds of books?"

Kagome, being a private person, had never liked being put under the spotlight. Having that kind of question pointed at her all of a sudden only made it so much worse. She fidgeted under their attention, twisting her hands underneath the table, like a deer in the headlight.

"Umm… uh… I… uh…" She was flushed all the way to the tip of her ears and was looking anywhere but the girls and the sassy volumes on the table.

This time, it was Oren who came to her rescue. The eldest warrioress and clear team leader had up until now stayed out of the quickly raucous-turning girl talk. The moment she saw that it was creeping into uncomfortable territory for her charge however, she stepped in immediately. Laying a reassuring hand on Kagome's shoulder, she leveled a stern look at the twittering warrior girls before her.

"Ladies, have you nothing better to do than pester Kagome-sama? What she prefers to read is not something you need to know." Her voice was not harsh but it carried a definite command in it.

The girls withered and quieted at once under Oren's stern look.

"It is now Kagome-sama's time to study with Temari-san. We should not bother them needlessly. Come…" She stood up, waving a beckoning gesture at the girls. "Your reaction time was sloppy at the orphanage two days ago. I will see to it that you all improve."

Just like that, Oren got the six teenage warrior maidens to meekly march out of the room, leaving Kagome and Temari alone to their devices. As she followed her younger teammates out the door, she turned to nod her goodbye at them.

"Kagome-sama, Temari-sama…" then and only then did the corner of her mouth curved into an amused smile. "... have fun _studying_."

The moment the door clicked shut, Temari mumbled apologetically.

"Sorry… I didn't mean to put you in the spot. I just…" Kagome stopped her before she could get further than that.

"No no. I'm not… I mean... I have to.. thank you." Despite the slightly embarrassing experience, because of Temari and her kunoichi lit, the tension that had festered between Kagome and her maidens since the tanuki incidence had lifted if only for a moment. Two days might not be a lot for some people, but with how stilted her conversations were with the maidens with the exception of Oren these days, Kagome was more than just a little grateful for the reprieve brought about by Temari's presence.

"You mean you like it!" There was pleasant surprise on Temari's face this time, along with an impish expression that looked far better her on her than uncertainty did.

"I… I don't know. I never tried. But, like you said, it's good harmless fun right?" Kagome replied, smiling in return at the younger girl. "I can already tell I will enjoy study sessions with you."

And that was how Kagome's tentative friendship with the eldest daughter of Rasa started. Temari came every day in the morning and in the evening. Taking advantage of Kagome's suddenly free schedule, the younger girl crammed back-to-back lessons on local customs, etiquette and social niceties from eight in the morning to eleven in the afternoon on Kagome. Then after dinner of the same day, she would come back for their language lessons.

Almost immediately, Temari proved to be a far less demanding teacher than her father, preferring to get to know her student on a personal level over grilling her on her vocabulary and speaking skill, but also far more fun to be with. She would often bring gifts of local sweets and cute pastries to be shared with the maidens, and provoke bouts of whimsical girl talk that momentarily eased the strain in Kagome's relationship with her watchers due to her much younger age and propensity to become easy teasing target to the older warrioresses. Occasionally, she would bring in local board games and through open sessions with the maidens, taught Kagome a casual version of the Sand people language that her father never used.

Outside of Temari's classes however, Kagome suddenly found herself with more time than she knew what to do with. Though her life under the Kazekage's watch was one of comfort and needs taken care of before she even thought to ask, it was also often without a spare moment. Kagome's service to the common people of Suna was one that was very much appreciated and under great demand. Sunagakure was a village in name only. In truth, with its sheer scale, its number of population and autonomy, it was more a city state than actual village. More than a million people called this place home and Kagome, ever since she accepted the Kazekage's offer, had become the sole provider for most of them.

Even for desert folks accustomed to making the most of what they had, a million was a lot of people to feed. The trees that Kagome planted might be growing fine even without her presence for weeks on end, but it still took Kagome the better part of a month to make a round through the agricultural land that now spanned the vast space above the mesas. Before her tacit house arrest, Kagome would often spend most of her day just strolling the paths between the crops and fruit trees under the close supervision of her maidens and whatever guards Rasa put on her for the day, or visiting the farmer families that manned these newborn farms and fruit plantations.

Once these visits ceased, all of a sudden her days were filled with hours of next to nothing to do and plagued by an increasing sense of restlessness that left Kagome feeling frustrated and cooped up. Her quarters inside the temple—an apartment unit with three bedrooms, two showers, a pantry, a living room, and a backyard separated from the temple and surrounded entirely by either temple walls or mesa cliffs—might not be small, but it was quickly growing cramped for an antsy miko with a cadre of attendants that still more often than not acted unduly cautious around her.

Kagome tried not to let her frustration show, but she was less than successful when Oren came to her on the third day after the tanuki incident to present something to pass the time with.

"A secret language?" asked Kagome as she sat by the older woman on a cedar bench in the backyard, looking up at the star-studded desert night skies.

"Yes," said Oren. In her hands were a length of crimson cloth embroidered with arrays of colorful intricate motifs. A gift from a villager to the Miko whose mere presence brought them a time of plentifulness that they hadn't known for decades. One of the many. Though Rasa no doubt put anything sent to her through stringent security screens—and had most likely destroyed more than a small percentage of the villager's offerings—the stuff that were allowed to reach her still took up an entire room in the temple by themselves. There were furs and silk and cloths aplenty, and jewelries made out of shiny colorful gemstones. There were trinkets and books and shoes and fanciful crystal pots and bottles filled with fragrant cream and perfume. There were things that were many people's ideas of what to give to a budding young woman of importance but Kagome, who had grown used to the simple life from her travels through the Sengoku Jidai and later on among the poorest of Suna, really had no use for. Out of that pile of glittering gifts, handmade scarves and home woven, embroidered cloths like the one in Oren's hands were a dime a dozen. Which only made what the warrioress just told her all the more intriguing.

"Kilims," said Oren as she ran one hand over the exquisitely embroidered symbols on the crimson cloth. Her eyes, chocolate brown and framed under thick black lashes, gleamed as she traced the exquisitely crafted embroideries. "The secret language of Sunagakure women of the cloth and needles. They say it's thousands of years old. Would you like to hear the story?"

Did Kagome want to hear the story behind a gift someone had obviously spent an inordinate amount of time and work on to create for her? Of course!

"Long ago, before even the founding of Sunagakure, most of the people of this nation were illiterate," Oren started. "Literacy was the privilege of noble born clans and most of us back then were laborers, soldiers, craftspeople. A single small settlement of desert dwellers would have maybe a scribe who knew enough letters to compose news or messages to neighbor settlements, two if they were lucky. In contrast, even in the poorest, most backwater settlement, most women knew a thing or two about cloth making and sewing. The desert provided no easy supplies for cloth making of course, but most of us had to learn out of sheer necessity. It was only a matter of time that more complex crafts such as weaving or embroidery became common skills among the ancient Kaze no Kuni women populace."

What she said was true. The ordinary Suna citizen wore a lot of cloth on their bodies courtesy of the extreme year round weather of their home country. Anybody that walked out the house dressed only in one or two layers—as the people of Kagome's home or the Sengoku Jidai did—would quickly succumb to dehydration, heat strokes, even burns. While the warrior class seemed to prefer simple garments of muted tones such as black, white, or brown, the civilians, especially those with the means, tended to be more partial to colorful garbs with complex decorative elements. Despite a scarcity of resources in the desert, the fabric market commandeered a large part of Sunagakure internal economy and was often the most bustling part of town, always teeming with people and activities.

"Back then, there weren't many female warriors. Women were deemed too important to waste in battlefields. So most stayed home with their children, their looms, their homespun wool and fur and their needles. To support their families, many of these women would weave or sew clothes and fabric to sell to passing trader caravans, which in turn honed their skills even further than the the household level. It was not surprising in those days for a housewife to produce beautifully embroidered or woven masterpieces that could be sold to nobles or even royalty. Gradually, through centuries of shared mythologies and fables, a system composed of thousands of motifs, symbols, and designs—each with a specific meaning and lore—formed and was later on developed into a secret language."

She brought the scarf up and pointed at a crooked design made with gleaming silver threads "This one is a snake", the another one that looked like series of pointy waves made from indigo blue threads "Running water", and then the one next to it "Scorpion—great danger in the desert. A star—direction that you must follow. An eye—somebody is watching."

Kagome scooted closer, enthralled by the tale Oren was weaving. In her head she imagined ancient women at their looms or bending over an embroidery bone hoop. "These are beautiful..." Up close, she could see how much work must have gone into a mere scarf. Almost every inch of the cloth was covered in stunning hand embroidered designs. And to think she had not given much thought to these before. Unbidden, she felt the twinge of guilt. It was not that she did not value the gifts freely given by the ordinary villager. It was that she simply did not need much in life, even less so with an ever attentive guardian and provider in the form of the village leader himself. She had not known the time and heart that must have gone into the making of these items. Kagome quietly resolved to herself to go over all the fabric in the pile once she was done with Oren. Outwardly, she said.

"These are really pretty."

"Yes, they are, aren't they?" agreed Oren. "Which makes the Kilims incredibly useful when the era of ninjas and hidden villages came."

"Oh? How so? Because it's a… secret language?"

"Precisely," said Oren. "For some reason, and despite frequent trade and cultural exchange, the secret of the Kilim never left Kaze no Kuni. Possibly it was because most if not all of the practitioners had been women until then and thus were far away from active battlefields and frontlines. With the founding of Sunagakure, there was a surge of female warriors in espionage and infiltration taskforces. The Kilims, previously merely a secret language practiced among sisterhoods of the loom and needle, became a ready made complex coding system consisting of thousands of codes with various meanings depending on the color and compositions. Many first and second generation Sunagakure female spies and infiltrators were sent deep into other countries and enemy bases as simple seamstresses or house women. They would then send missives back to their home village under the form of hand embroidered or woven presents to relatives. A message on possible attacks could be found in the vines and flower motifs of a comb pouch. Vital intelligence regarding enemy forces could be read from the whorls at the hem of a dress."

"Wow…" commented Kagome, awed by the sheer coolness of cadres of spy seamstresses. It was like a spy novel starring housewives with secret identities. "Are they still in use these days?"

Oren smiled at her undisguised curiosity. "Not any more, regretfully, not as a secret coding system. The code was broken during the first ninja world war. Well, the part of it that could be used for military communication anyhow. Nowaday we use a coding system with rotating cyphers. But you see, here is where it gets interesting. The secret language of Kilims encompasses way more than what is needed for military communication. When the Kilim was discarded from our intelligence system, other parts of the language were still in use and actually flourished once it was no longer utilized by the state. The Kilim was a language created by women, wives, daughters and sisters. At its heart, it is the prayers that came from the hearts of women that waited back home."

That… sounded really romantic. The girl part of Kagome sighed dreamily. Beside her, Oren moved to a different part of the scarf. Right at the center was a design stitched with gold threads and around it were strings of smaller curves and curls in silver that fanned out like the light of the moon.

"This one," said Oren. "... is the symbol of the tree of life." Her finger traced the patterns in silver. "And around it are the blessings of health, love, and fortune. There are many more. Blessings of courage, of wisdom, of luck. Hundreds of them, each for a specific reason," she explained. "In the era of the Hidden Villages, Kilim and fabric arts were not as popular and widespread in the ninja population as they were in the civilian population. Still, during the reign of the first Kazekage, one out of three kunoichi were well versed in the craft of the loom and needle. When they became wives and mothers, these kunoichi too sewed scarves, belts and clothes for their beloved. The only difference was that whereas the normal civilian woman could only infuse her prayers in the cloth, the kunoichi instead soaked their creations with their chakra and their will to protect. It was not their intention to impregnate the cloth with chakra at first, merely something that happened naturally when they were in a state of concentration and thinking about the people that they wanted to protect. The designs themselves, passed down from generations of Kaze no Kuni women, were already potent icons. Powered by chakra and guided by the will of their creators, the meaning behind them became active amulets of protection. This was a complete accident. Up until the reign of the first Kazekage, sealing was a secret art only a few clans in the world were privy to and they tended to guard their knowledge zealously. There was an international outcry when clans with sealing arts discovered what we had accidentally created."

"They were upset?" asked Kagome.

"Very much so," replied Oren. "Some even accused us of stealing from them and went so far as to declare wars of retaliation on us. It was a mess for a while. But, either way, once it was created, none could take that knowledge from us. And that was how the kunoichi of Sunagakure gave birth to our native art of Sunagakure cloth sealing."

Then, looking Kagome in the eye, Oren said. "The tree of life. The blessings of health, love and fortune. There is no chakra in the cloth so it was most likely made by a civilian woman, but that does not diminish her message. The person who made this for you wished that you would lead a long and happy life Kagome-sama."

Kagome was struck speechless. She looked at the scarf in Oren's hands and suddenly see what she had been missing for a long time. Without saying a word, the older woman wrapped the scarf around her neck, and then smiling at her, she offered.

"Would you like to learn it?" She gestured at the embroidery on the scarf, meaning the language as well as the craft behind it.

There was a curious similarity between the Sand people Kilim and the Omamori, Shinto talismans her grandpa made and sold from the family shrine. She had always found them interesting, in a cutesy sort of way (and indeed the most popular ones were without fail those wrapped in cute pouches) but she herself had never properly learned to make one. The lore and artistry behind the Kilim was also an enthralling subject. It was not like Kagome had anything else to do in the long hours between Temari's daily classes and already at the back of her mind was the tantalizing thought of learning how to perhaps recreate the Omamori of her home culture through the art of Sunagakure Kilim. Kagome jumped at Oren's offer.

For the better part of the next week, in an effort to keep her mind from the cautious glances thrown her way from the maidens as well as the restlessness of being kept in an enclosed space for days on end, Kagome busied herself either with Temari or with Oren. If she was not making her way through some books, she was practicing saying a polite greeting for formal gatherings or trying her hand at stitching with the hoop and needle brought to her.

Time flew quickly when one was busy. So when the week finally passed, the noises of constructions from outside ceased, and the Kazekage of Sunagakure appeared for the first time after their standoff on the front of her door one fine morning in the place of his daughter, Kagome was caught completely unprepared.

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_**End Chapter 12 - part 1 **_

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**1**. Chapter was getting too long again (nearing 7000 words and only half done) and I predict some hold-up from work so I split it into two parts. First part is pretty much a breather chapter since the last 3 chapters were all plot movers. The second part will up the pace again. Hopefully the second part goes up soon. Second part will cover the talk between Kazekage and Kagome (or rather a fight). The decision to allow Kagome to meet Gaara once per week, and the Maharra. Chapter should end with the start of the first meeting between Kagome and Gaara. After that, possibly a short interlude chapter starring Jiraiya as he meets up with a contact to discuss the big changes happening in Suna and the possibility of an intelligence/counter-intelligence war between villages revolving around this 'Miko' that nobody outside of Suna is sure is what or who exactly. He also gets to hear the announcement of a big campaign started by Suna that has Iwa and Kumo sending in spies in droves to feel out what the hell is going on.

This part is also half edited. One of my two beta is caught in a bad time (busy work). I'll come back to this chapter and upload the fully edited and proof-read. Please excuse any grammatical errors on my part. I hope it doesn't diminish your enjoyment of the story.

**2**. I realized during writing this chapter that Kagome had gone up one year in age since the start of the story. Kagome's birthday was never officially released but she was a confirmed Fall season baby and her horoscope apparently is Scorpio so most likely she was born late September to October. At this point in the story, we are in the latter half of December. So Kagome is now 18 years old.

**3**. Kilim is an actual secret language/system of motifs on Turkish rugs. The real life Kilim is a flat-weave used mostly on rugs though. The Kilim in this fic is more a composite of the Turkish Kilim and the embroidery techniques and traditions of various Turko-Mungol tribes such as Uyghurs, Khazars, and Khiljis. I thought the canon Sunagakure cloth binding techniques were quite interesting (especially when the most major character to use it so far is a kunoichi in the anime). It reminds me of the rich culture around fabric and fabric arts around the Arab, Persia, Turkey, and Mongol cultural sphere (cultures built in desert or oasis landscapes whose ethnic groups were composed of various previously nomad groups of people) that I was leaning on to create the Sunagakure of this story. The real world Kilim, in the world building perspective, really just fits right into this universe. I've always liked Turkish and Persian culture too so it was extra chance to read up on the cultures. I wish there were more books on West Asia cultures and history though, especially folk history and culture like this. It was really difficult for me to find research materials (so please forgive me if you are from the above cultures and found that I got it wrong somewhere).

Later on in the story, Kagome's experimentation at hybrid Kilim-Omamori will become... plot relevant (let's put it at that. I don't want to spoil stuff).

**4**. With this chapter, From the Garden of Gods officially passes the Bechdel test. There were several occasions in previous chapters but none were quite clear. This chapter with the talk and bonding between Kagome and Oren is a clear cincher though, so… hooray!

**5**. This fifth part is going to be long (just a warning) and it will address two linked questions that several readers have sent to me after the previous chapter of From the Garden of Gods. I thought that those were very interesting and valid questions and a lot of readers probably would like to hear the answers too so here they are. The questions are:

_**a/ Aren't Miko supposed to be virgins?**_

_**b/ Regarding Kagome's answer to the Go-Ikenban on the hereditary nature of Kagome's power, isn't that a bit sketchy since little in canon Inuyasha actually outright states that Miko power is hereditary (since we see Kagome's family are largely ordinary people). Also if Miko were supposed to be virgins like nuns, then the power being hereditary is kinda contradictory. **_

Interesting and valid questions and probably will help a lot of readers understand the world building of From the Garden of Gods better.

First, let's resolve question a. This is a resounding no—Miko in real life and in canon Inuyasha are not required to be virgins and never have been. In real life Japanese folklore, Ame-no-Uzume is the patron deity of all miko, as her dance is the origin of the Miko's Kagura dance among other things. Ame-no-Uzume is also the goddess of revelry and sensuality, including sex. Sex is seen as a divine act and also enables one's spiritual senses to heighten. A miko that has to be a virgin doesn't make sense.

The popular Western misconception that Miko have to be virgins is because Western audience link Miko with Catholic nuns who swear themselves to the one god and abstain from sex altogether and also the fetishization of Miko being virgins in hentai and Japanese erotica. (I know what you guys did. Sythe is genre savvy.)

In real practice and history, some Mikos were virgins, some weren't. In fact some are even married with children. (There's no age limit either) What matters is that they devote their hearts to the kami of their shrine, and have sincere intentions to take care of that kami.

In the Inuyasha anime, there was also a Miko named Tsukiyomi who had a lover (a demon lover by the way) while maintaining her duty as an active Miko warrioress.

Now, a few of you may be thinking, but Sythe, what about Canon Kikyo and all that drama about 'To be with Inuyasha I must return to being an ordinary woman.' Again, that is a tricky part. Consider this for a moment, Inuyasha as a series is deeply rooted in Japanese folklore and culture. It's a series written for Japanese people, and it expects its audiences to already be knowledgeable on various Japanese mythologies, folklores and value. Non-Japanese audiences, even with superb translation, tend to miss out on many subtle cultural elements of the series (imagine a pop novel written by an American author for American audiences referring things like the confederate flag or Kim K to make a point. The American audience would get it immediately but that would just fly over the head of many international readers). This case is one of those cultural nuances in which Rumiko Takahashi's intention probably is something else completely. Miko not being required to be virgins is a sure fact (and Rumiko knows it, which means she is trying to say something else completely when she wrote the part on how Kikyo wanted to become an ordinary woman and spend her life as Inuyasha's wife), but on the other hand, there are many other cultural factors (such as the fact that most Japanese women face societal pressure to retire from whatever career they hold before and become a housewife once they marry. Same goes for Miko. Though they are not required to specifically, many give up their spiritual vocation to become an ordinary housewife. This ingrained sexism is a much talked about issue of modern Japan) as well as Kikyo's emotions to take into account (especially considering that many fans interpret her love for Inuyasha as a manifestation of her weariness and loneliness due to her extremely powerful Miko abilities. Inuyasha in this case could have been a way for Kikyo to escape the loneliness of Miko life where other humans were at once reverent and fearful of her. Not to say that her love for him wasn't genuine, but it could have been started up and helped along by something else other than simple love too).

My personal interpretation aligns with the above interpretation from many Japanese fans: that Kikyo no longer wanted to be the powerful but lonely Miko (with her power waning as an effect of her unconscious wish on the Shikon no Tama) but to be an ordinary woman who was loved and in turn love an ordinary man. What she longed for was not just to be with Inuyasha (she could have done the same as Tsukiyomi did) but for him and her to have the normal life they never had (her because she was discovered to have tremendous potential when she was a child and him because of his halfbreed nature).

As to question b, this is a little more tricky. It is true that if we go by pure canon Inuyasha materials alone, whether Miko power (or Monk holy power for that matter) is hereditary or not is never very clear. On the not hereditary camp, we have Kagome's family being largely ordinary people. On the hereditary camp, we have Miroku, his father, grandfather and previous ancestors who had, without fail, produced children with potent Holy Power.

But, Miko and Monk power in Inuyasha was not something Rumiko Takahashi created by herself though. This fictional power is based on Japanese folklore in which all spiritual based power are called Reiryoku (basically Spiritual Power in Japanese). Sounds familiar? That's because Reiryoku is a popular superpower in many Japanese series including but is not limited to Yu Yu Hakusho, Bleach, Shaman King, etc…

Based on Japanese folklore and other series featuring the same Reiryoku, the answer to question b is much clearer. Reiryoku is hereditary, but hereditary alone does not necessarily means the children who inherit it can wield it.

There are two parts to Reiryoku: hereditary—which is the innate potential of a person to have spiritual power—and awakening. Awakening here can come from two things: either through training designed to tap into this potential, or a traumatic event that activates the power as a defense mechanism. In Japanese folklore, the plot element of a character undergoing some traumatic event (near death experience, witnessing the death of someone, meeting a supernatural entity, etc..) and coming away with some new supernatural power is very popular. On the hand, there are also characters that come from established clans, families or organizations that have traditions surrounding the awakening and training of this potential.

Without the second part of this equation (no awakening, no training), a person with a potential for Reiryoku can go their whole life as a normal person and pass on their latent potential to their offsprings without knowing.

Apply this to Inuyasha and immediately we see things clearing up. In the case of Kagome, it is a classic awakening. Subsequent to falling down into the Bone Eater's Well and meeting Mistress Centipede (traumatic event), Kagome started to develop her power (awakening). But her Miko abilities for the most part of the series were weak because she never received any training (unlike other Miko in the series such as Kikyo, Kanade, Tsukiyomi or Hitomiko). Kagome's family are people with potential but never underwent an awakening and so went most of their life as normal people.

In the case of Miroku, it's a classic cultivated potential scenario. Miroku's linage is one of powerful monks and demon fighters. He also received training since childhood from his father and later on from his monk guardian.

If you apply this same explanation to other series with Reiryoku in them, you will see that it fits too. Yu Yu Hakusho's Yusuke was born with the potential (being the descendant of a demon of all things), and up until his first death was a more or less normal kid. Only after his first death did his power awaken and start to grow.

Shaman King's Yoh is a cultivated potential case. Nuff said.

Bleach's Ichigo is overflowing potential and awakening from the moment of his birth, being the son of a female pureblood Quincy, a Shinigami in flesh form and infused with the soul of an artificial Hollow. Dang, talk about unfair genetics. Some kids just have it all.

So, to get back to Kagome's answer to the Go-Ikenban's question, her answer is correct and honest, but also lacking because the truth is a little more complicated than a clear cut yes. But even in the world of Naruto, powers that must have both hereditary and awakening factors are no strange things either (e.g. Sharingan, Rinnegan, both require latent potential and awakening) so it's not like the Suna nins are entirely without clues.


	14. Chapter 12: The Quiet After 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Betas: Michelle T., AstaraelDarkrahBlack

**Chapter 12: The Quiet After - The Quiet Before (Part 2)**

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The Kazekage came early in the morning, flanked by guards at the door as he greeted her with a good morning over Oren's shoulder in a soft, blank voice. Without another word, he left his followers behind and stepped into Kagome's abode. Drifting vortices of sand dust damp with the dew of desert night trailed his steps and fell in a fine drizzle over the carpeted floor by the front entrance. Quietly and with a grace that had never failed to captivate her attention, he sat himself across from her on the couch and said.

"How have you been these last ten days?"

Someone had run to get him a cup of tea and he accepted it with gracious thanks, face blank and perfectly calm as he watched her expectantly. Thoughts zipped through Kagome's head at the speed of light. The memory of the last time they had spoken was fresh in her mind and beneath it was all the contradictory thoughts on the man who now sat before her. Her guardian, her teacher, and at times, the one person who confused and bothered her more than anyone else in this land had ever done. Ten days of implicit house arrest had given her a lot of time to think about things… and for her irritation to simmer slowly into the frustration that gnawed at her the moment she laid eyes on the Kazekage of the village. In the aftermath of her showdown with the tanuki and then the revelations of the meeting with the Go-Ikenban, he probably had had good reasons to have her to stay away and out of the public eye—where her mere appearance might trigger something neither of them wanted. But the manner in which he chose to tell her to stay put inside the temple… that was problematic.

"You put me in jail," she said finally in response to his question. Ten days with no distractions under Temari's tutelage had seen her speech in the local language crawl past the awkward stuttering stage she had started out with.

Her statement prompted the Kazekage into rising an eyebrow.

"If you think this constitutes a jail," he replied, making a gesture that seemed to envelope everything around them. The spacious quarter, the spartan but of undeniably fine quality furniture and even the luxurious scarlet-dyed rug under their feet that kept the cold stone floor at bay. "I hesitate to think what you would call our real prison."

"So it's a pretty cage. So what?" Kagome bit back. "I didn't ask for any of this." She did not raise her voice but her irritation was clear to anyone who cared to listen. At Kagome's back, her maiden stiffened at the unexpected hard tone in her voice.

Rasa, on the other hand, did not answer her immediately—merely regarding her calmly as he sipped his tea in the quiet of her room. Mist rose from the mouth of his steaming tea cup in thin, white strands of vapor. Early morning in the desert was almost as cold as night; the sun had yet to fully rise over the sand plains and bring with it the blazing heat that molded life among the dunes. The light that came streaming through the windows was weak and pale and blue tinged, painting the room with shimmering pillars speckled with rust-colored dust motes.

Putting the half empty cup down, he addressed her curtly voiced complaint the way a teacher might explain why some things must be to a recalcitrant pupil. "I don't know how the people of your previous homeland dealt with things, but if they call keeping children who do not know better away from knives jailing, then yes, I put you in a jail."

Kagome sensed more than saw her maidens, with the exception of Oren who stood faithfully in a corner, surreptitiously creep out through the back door and away from a brewing argument that they wanted no part of.

"A young girl who we all thought to be perfectly normal aside from her magical green thumb walked into the village square in the midst of a crisis and proceeded to lay waste to the greatest demon this nation has ever known in three shots," he pressed on. "And then she told us that she came from a completely different world where untold hordes of demons—the likes of which we could only dream of—fester unchecked. Do you realize how you sounded?"

He didn't wait for her answer.

"You may only be trying to help, priestess, but you must realize your mere existence is enough to send into the pits of terror. A third of the council want nothing more than to put you in an actual jail cell and throw away the key… regardless of all the good you have done this village and its people," he paused once, letting what he had just said sink in. "Normally I would deride that third as irrational fear-mongers, but… according to our records as far back as they go the Shukaku is unkillable. What you call demons are immortal forces of nature in this world. To go against them is like going against a sandstorm or an erupting volcano. An act of futility. There are fewer than ten of them in existence in this world, but they don't die no matter what you do…"

Rasa's voice grew cold and heavy. His eyes momentarily glazed over as if he was reliving memories of his own, failures of his own.

"... and sooner or later they will come back even more angry than before. You can't win… ever. You just have to learn to live with them, to live while accepting that they will take from you, that they will rob you of things you hold dear... again and again. Eventually, you have to learn to go on living while expecting them... fearing them... and hating them."

There was maybe a minute or so when the Kazekage grew quiet, seemingly lost in thought before he turned his attention back to Kagome.

"There are people… savages in remote corners of this world… who worship them as gods of destruction. What you have done… what you nearly did ten days ago in the village square. No-one in our recorded history has ever done that before. No-one human, that is…"

His eyes bore into her. The thorns of wariness and resentment flit about in the depth of his gaze, beneath the unwavering determination and undisguised curiosity.

"Do you understand, priestess? You nearly killed a god… in broad daylight. The last thing you want to do is to prance around in public while the upper echelons of this village are still trying to wrap their minds around a new previously impossible possibility. A god killer, going about their village as she pleases. No restraints. No guarantees. Nothing to stop her. She answers to no law except her own. She does not even yet comprehend our laws. Do you understand, priestess, why you must stay put in this temple while I deal with pigeon-hearted men who happen to hold the reins in this village?"

Kagome grew quiet at Rasa's revelation. To be honest, she had expected that. She had dealt with her fair share of ignorant villagers made vicious by fear in the past. But… she had not considered how much worse the tanuki incident could come off in a world with no priestesses and few demons. Still, if the Kazekage thought he could make her back down with that kind of patronizing speech, then he was in for a surprise. Despite the irritation mounting in the pit of her belly, her face was calm, mirroring his own, and she responded quietly, but firmly.

"I am not stupid, Kazekage-san. This is not the first time a people reacted with... fear… at what I can do. But... " she looked him in the eye, her chin up, her back straight, rigid, and defiant. "...you could have told me this when you sent that message. You didn't. You chose not to. You think of me as a child… unable… to make my own decisions," she paused, then stated simply but firmly. "That is a problem."

She saw a hint of surprise flit across his face, as well as vague approval, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Is it?" he challenged. "I would think you have bigger problems than that, priestess. You will forgive me for prioritizing the welfare of you and the village's above all else, your delicate sensibilities included." He paused, eyeing the frown on her face before pressing on in a placating voice. "But I did not come here to bicker." He threaded his hands together in front of his chest. "I came bearing the Go-Ikenban's decision regarding your request for contact with the bearer of Shukaku, my son Gaara."

It was a diversion, but it was a highly effective one. Kagome leaned forward in anticipation, for the moment willing to let his refusal to answer her accusation slide.

"And?" she pushed.

"The Go-Ikenban is at an impasse," he said. "Torn between three factions that cannot bring themselves to compromise. One wants nothing to do with you except perhaps to put you in chains."

Immediately, she thought of the jumpy councilor of that night ten days ago. What was his name again? Ika… something. He had called her a witch, said she was speaking nonsense, and looked about a step away from doing something drastic. He wore fear about him like a second skin, yellow and wan and listless in the aftermath of crushing terror. Briefly she wondered if he had watched her go up against the Shukaku, seen her strike down the mad spirit with insulting ease, seen it flee from her and heard it cry out in terror. Was that the reason for his fear? Because she had done something thought to be impossible? Perhaps, but it did not truly matter now. He was not the only one to be tinged with that pale yellow in the Go-Ikenban chamber. But despite Rasa's claim, she knew without a doubt that the people of the Sand would not do away with her so easily, not even those councilors ruled by extreme trepidation at the thought of what she could do, not while the people benefited from her services to the public. For that, she felt nothing but pity for them.

"The second faction would rather leave you alone, but under watch…"

'_You mean more than you already do?'_, she was tempted to say, but kept her quiet.

"... to see if you were... perhaps neglecting to mention other things we should know about… for the good of the village… and for your own welfare."

He was effecting a very convincing tone. Had Kagome not seen into the Kazekage's soul itself in their first meeting and realized the complicated mind behind that calm, blank facade, she would likely have bought it. But she had, and so could not help but feel a similarity between this second group and the man sitting before her himself. Her guardian, her teacher, her… not-quite-friend but more than just a close acquaintance.

"The third and last faction want to work with you. They have seen what you have done for this village. They have trust that you have nothing but good intentions, and they want to find out what else you can do."

She gave him a sharp look, then said.

"And these many… factions… of the Go-Ikenban… what have they decided?"

"They have entrusted me, the one who holds the last vote, to decide which course of actions we shall take. My choice will be their choice. Time is of the essence, and I doubt you like this waiting. We will put an end to this quandary today. That is the reason for which I am here."

He emptied the tea cup in one gulp, set it down, then got straight to the point.

"I want to know what your intentions are towards Gaara."

For a full minute, Kagome was speechless, a frown marring her face.

"That? That is your question? You want to know what I want?" she attempted to keep the annoyance from her voice, but likely failed. "Have I not made myself clear? I want to help Gaara. I want to help… you…"

Kagome was tempted to continue speaking; that this was despite the Kazekage's obstinacy and his council of unreasonably paranoid old men.

"That is an awfully vague answer, priestess. And wanting to help does not necessarily mean that you will actually help. Tell me. How exactly will you help? Will you… get rid of the Shukaku for good? Or attempt to separate the two perhaps?"

Something in his voice, in the rigid set of his shoulders told her that he did not view either option as a good outcome.

"Of course not," she said. "The tanuki… he wasn't any more at fault than Gaara was…"

"I beg your pardon. _**The tanuki**_ has killed thousands of innocents and caused an untold amount of destruction to this nation," he made a sharp gesture with his hand as if to emphasize. "Whatever your personal view on what constitutes a demon, I suggest you keep in mind that Shukaku is historically the oldest and greatest enemy this nation has ever known. It has aggrieved our people since long before the founding of this village, even long before we developed any grudges or rivalries with competing nations."

His sudden and passionate rebuttal gave her pause. She considered explaining her view for a moment before letting it go. The tanuki wasn't at fault, not while the crude soul stitching drove it mad from pain, but that was not something that was so easily explained to one who did not see the merging of souls the way she did, so she opted to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"The bond," she said, choosing her words carefully. "The forced bond… it hurts the both of them. The tanuki goes mad with pain. Whenever it… struggles... " Yes, that was the word. Struggle. It fought against the binding constantly. "... it gets worse. It's like… a rubber band. When the band stretches, Gaara loses control and the tanuki gets out. But it doesn't last. They are always back together. A vicious cycle. They will destroy themselves."

"... And what will you do?" he paused as if reconsidering his question. "What do you see, priestess?"

"This bond is not natural. It's crude. They are tangled up into each other. If I try to separate them, it will likely kill Gaara."

Even at the possibility of his son's death, the father gave no outward reaction. He was quiet, still as a statue, not saying a word, and not moving an inch. His face was stone, and his steady gaze seemed to pin her in place.

"But… I can stop the pain," she pressed on, slower this time. She was on new territory. "I can stop the... stretching. I can mend the cracks. No more struggling. No more losing control. No more tanuki rampaging and killing people. With time, I can… maybe fix the bond. Make it better."

She could do more. She would do more. But she wasn't telling him that, at least not right away.

Kagome looked at him expectantly. She waited to hear either a question confirming whether she could actually fix the mangled tie between boy and spirit or outright consent. After all, the people of the Sand and their Kazekage had everything to gain by accepting. But Rasa gave her neither. He didn't ask whether she could actually do it, merely regarded her with dark eyes.

"And for that to happen, you need to be within close proximity with him, is that it?"

She nodded, then ventured on. "What's wrong?" The fact that he was doing something that was neither of her guesses meant he wasn't yet set on a decision. She could tell he had some plan in mind. She wasn't sure she liked that. Rasa was at times a tricky individual. He liked to put things to test, see how far they would stretch, when they would give. He had done that to her too a few times. He would deliberately hold off to see her reactions, or poke her with edged questions bound to get a raise out of her. He probably was going to do something like that very soon. He probably was going to do it now.

"Nothing," he replied, then put his cold, empty cup down on the table and stood up in one smooth motion. He held out a hand to her. "Come. I want to show you something."

They didn't go far. Indeed, they didn't even leave the premises of the temple. He simply led her through long stretches of corridors and closed gates to another part of the temple, this one even deeper into the temple than her quarters. The guards and Oren trailed behind them as they walked in silence, passing by beige robed monks who bowed respectfully to the Kazekage and shot her inquisitive looks. Then finally they stopped before a towering archway blocked by thick black bars.

He opened the gate with a palm pressed against a discreet mechanism in the wall next to the old brass-green kerosene lamp and beckoned at her. The moment Kagome stepped foot into the vast chamber inside, she was immediately overwhelmed.

"Who lived here?" she whispered, in awe at the aged presence that exude from the very wall and ground of this hallowed place. The chamber was fashioned from an immensely large natural flowstone cave. It was dark and empty but for a tiny, unmarked gravestone and a rock formation that bore the vague shape of a tea pot behind it. She could feel powerful seals inlaid in the walls, meant to hold whatever was inside from escaping. The seals were dormant, yet still held enough residual power for them to glow in her vision. Surprisingly, it wasn't their presence that made this dreary place extraordinary to her eyes.

Rasa shot her a sharp, considering look, and responded not with an answer but with a question of his own. "What do you see?"

She touched the wall, felt the breath of an ancient, ageless soul at her fingertips. No. Not a soul, the shade of one, an imprint left behind from times long past. There were memories seeped deep into the stone and they glimmered like the stars in the night skies. She ambled along the edge of the chamber, a spellbound child in the cathedral of gods. The Kazekage trailed behind her waiting for her to finish.

The monk was old, lonely, and burdened with a terrible purpose. The mark of those who had jailed him made a black ring at the entrance of the chamber. He was greatly feared for shouldering a duty no other wanted and few understood. In spite of it, his heart was filled with unshakable faith and boundless compassion. The strength of his spirit was such that decades after his passing, its echoes lingered. It felt as if someone had condensed the holy aura of Mt. Hakurei and filled this chamber with it. But whereas the White-heart Hakushin was corrupted in death, this one was pure until the very end. He had never once stopped believing in his fellow humans. He had never once allowed hatred and bitterness to overtake his heart, not even when the rest of his kind shunned him.

Suddenly she felt small and young, humbled by the great presence of one who had long departed but who had nevertheless made this place forever a sacred ground to anyone with a smidgen of spiritual power. It was a full five minutes later that Kagome finally managed to get the words out.

"Shukaku was here," she started first in familiar territory. "Imprisoned for decades, bitter and resigned''. And… the one who held it here, who kept it company… A monk. He has a marvelous spirit and a great heart. I would have… I would have liked to meet him were he alive… what was his name?"

"Bunpuku Chagama," The Kazekage offered readily.

"Bunpuku Chagama," she repeated. "What does it mean? Happiness… bubbling over like… a tea pot? What a strange name… but it fits." She paused for a second as she laid her eyes on the small, unkempt and unmarked gravestone. The final resting place of Bunpuku Chagama? This was to be his reward for a lifetime of duty and sacrifice? Oh, but he wouldn't be the first spiritually powerful individual to be cast out by his brethren for little reason other than human spite. She would know that well.

She stood in silence before his unmarked gravestone, and then said as if making a grave promise. "I will remember it."

"You would be the first one in a long time to do so," said the Kazekage "Most would rather forget that he existed at all." There was a distinct rustling sound. She turned around and he was standing with a seal scroll in hand. He unfurled it in the blink of an eye and it fluttered from his hand, its end draping the floor. In the next moment there was a burst of smoke accompanied by a small sound. A bow and full quiver materialized in Rasa's hands. Without saying a word, he threw the bow and arrow set at Kagome who caught them clumsily.

"What are these for?" she asked, frowning. She didn't like where this was going.

He said nothing for the first few seconds, merely strolled leisurely to take up position in front of the grille gate which had shut down when she wasn't looking at it. On the other side, grim-faced guards stood with their backs to her. Alarms went off at the sight in Kagome's head.

"What are you doing, Rasa-san?" she pressed, holding the bow and arrows close, her fists tight around the polished wood grip.

"Relax," he said finally, looking her in the eye as he did so. He stood facing her with his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Nothing is going to happen." Then he paused, seeming to chide himself in his head, before rescinding his earlier statement. "My mistake. Something will happen. But the nature of what exactly that is entirely up to you."

Well, that was no less ominous.

"I will be frank with you," he continued. "The Shukaku is more than just a demon to this world. It is a vital political component in keeping the peace between the five greatest nations. There are eight others like it, they are distributed to six countries in this world, five of which currently hold a peace via the virtue of might and mutual agreement. Shukaku is our nation's only tailed beast, captured by the use of our own blood and effort. Because we cannot kill a demon, other methods of handling and harnessing its potential are required. What you see in Bunpuku Chagama," he made a gesture at the unmarked gravestone. "... and in Gaara is the best way we have for dealing with a tailed beast," he gazed at her, eyes heavy with intention and a cold, calculating hope. "it is... the best way we… had."

Kagome stood stock still, for a moment not believing what she just heard. She had been thinking of pressing the question of how exactly did boy and spirit become so entangled and here he was telling her the secret on his own accord. But… did he just…

"There was but a brief period of time, a few short months after the death of Bunpuku Chagama, when Shukaku was imprisoned in that teapot behind you," he pointed with one hand. "But the power of a tailed beast is such that only a living container may imprison it for any significant amount of time. A living _**human**_ container. A human sacrifice. A Jinchuuriki. Gaara…"

_He was_, thought Kagome in shock and horror, _he really was saying it._

"... is the second Jinchuuriki of Shukaku."

He looked like he was about to continue on a lengthy monologue, as if he hadn't just admitted to a horrible crime against his own child. Kagome quickly cut in before he could segue casually into the next topic.

"You?" Her voice shook with barely restrained emotions. "It was you who did it?" People left memories in the earth that they walked upon, in the houses they inhabited, and the more emotionally charged an event the stronger an impression it left. One downside to Kagome's spiritual vision was that the memories left upon the world were not simple recollections that would fade with time as she experienced them. The world didn't just appear to her in her eyes, her ears, her nose, her tongue, and her skin. Hers was a much deeper and much more vibrant world than that of others. Water carried magic in it, carried the pulse of other worlds in it. Rocks and stones had life, had breath. Love and hate were living things. And spiritual traumas the likes of which plagued the demon-boy chimera left marks on Kagome herself. Her skin remembered the heat and pain of his struggles. Her ears heard his cries for help. It was difficult to remain detached, even more to not remember… which made this revelation all the more horrifying for Kagome. "You put a demon… into your own child? Your own son?"

Her voice echoed in the silent chamber, erupting with disbelief and anger. "I thought… maybe some sort of accidents or a soul sickness I didn't know about. I didn't want to assume things… but it was you. You did it on your own accord… to your own child? How… how could you?" She was clutching the bow so tightly her knuckles turned white around the polished wood grip.

The Kazekage fell silent at her outburst, face stony and gaze cold. Something dark and foreboding was rearing its head in his eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice could have frozen water.

"Not all of us have the luxury of being born with natural demon suppressing power, priestess," he said in a curt, clipped voice. The word priestess fell from his lips like an admonishment. "The other alternative is a freely rampaging demon. In under half an hour of freedom, it killed a hundred and three people including women and children, maimed over four hundreds and caused untold number of financial losses. Think, priestess, of what it is like to live in terror of the next time a demon you can do nothing about come around to your village, to your family. Think of what it is like to live like insects to be crushed underfoot for your whole life. Think of being completely helpless as you witness your loved ones slaughtered like animals before your eyes."

The cold fury in his gaze pinned her to the spot and silenced any protest she might have said.

"Think of living in the contempt of murderous gods. Think, priestess, of what it is like to live in this nation, and hold your tongue. For if you cannot, we shall have to end our conversation right here, right now."

A strained silence descended in the chamber. The air was thick with tension as Kagome struggled with conflicting emotions. One one side, shock and indignant anger. On the other, shame and reproach. The silence reigned for a whole of five full minutes before the Kazekage pressed on in a quiet voice filled with uncharacteristic weariness and grief.

"I was a few months into my office. Bunpuku was dead. Shukaku needed a new container. My country was ravaged by war, my people made weak with loss. Someone must uphold the duty of Jinchuuriki. I am the Kazekage. You may think me heartless, but if I would not give my child to this fate… then who should have?"

It was a question that she did not have an answer for, and whose implications weighted heavily in her mind.

"We had no way of knowing that the seal would not work on Gaara as it did for his predecessor. We thought a child container adapted to the demon at birth would have an easier time. We were wrong. The seal relied on the mental strength of the bearer to keep the demon in check. Bunpuku was a grown man when he volunteered for the mantle. Gaara was a child."

He paused for a heartbeat, then said. "Gaara is a failure. Gaara is the failure of a hot-headed and arrogant young man who thought he had figured out what made the world go round… _**Me**_…And you, a child not that much older than my own daughter, claims she can reverse my irreparable mistake."

Somewhere halfway of this statement, Rasa's unexpected show of vulnerability evaporated and in its place was left only a hard, uncompromising intent. They were past her protest and back to whatever it was he wanted to talk about.

"I would be… immensely grateful… should you accomplish what you claim to be able to do. However, all matters concerning the Jinchuuriki are steeped in politics. Are you aware of where you stand with the Go-Ikenban?"

No… and she didn't care to know. More suspicion probably, more fear, more greed for what else she could potentially do, or attempts to control her. She was young, not stupid. She knew only to well what the people in control would want out of her when they heard the scent of profits to be made or power to be gained. She simply didn't care for their squabbling. She would do what felt right to her. That had never changed.

"What does that have to do with… anything?" she responded, her chin jutting out to show her displeasure with this tiresome conversation.

"Says the greatest disrupter of the status quo I've ever known," the Kazekage's mouth twisted in a vague facsimile of a grim smile. "Before your run-in with Shukaku, Miko Kagome Higurashi was viewed as a cute little girl that brought green riches to almost everyone in this village. You worried no one but perhaps the vulture merchants that once preyed upon my people. However, the moment you declared your interest in the jinchuuriki, the political keystone of this village, you made yourself a creature of concern to every man and woman with ambitions in this village. The village tactical weapon in close proximity with an alien Miko with the power to snuff out said weapon in the blink of an eye is a volatile combination few in the Go-Ikenban are comfortable with. The turmoil you will create… by merely exiting the safe haven I have created for you in this temple and involving yourself with Gaara and Shukaku…. it is immeasurable. You may very well turn the political and cultural landscape of this village on its head…"

"I just want to help," she snapped back. "You are making this un... unnecessarily complicated!"

"That might be so. After all, why should you care for politics that have never concerned you before," he concurred with a minute nod of his head, then made a gesture with one hand at the bow and quiver in her grip. "I shall make it simple for you, little priestess. I wish to test your resolve. Nock your arrow, and draw your bow. If you manage to dislodge me from where I stand," he gestured down at his feet. "I will cast the final vote in favor of your request. If you cannot, then the matter is closed."

"How does that... even prove anything?" spluttered Kagome, frustrated and confused.

"It proves your commitment," he responded immediately. "I promised you greater freedom once you gained an efficiency with our language, didn't I? You certainly are not butchering it anymore, but to release you into the open society of Sunagakure, and at the side of Gaara…" he shook his head. "Upheavals are sure to follow your every step. As the leader of this village, don't you think I should be concerned about that kind of thing?"

When put like that, he did have a point. Kagome hadn't missed the looks the guards had been giving her for these past few months. Adoration and confusion, gratitude mixed with impotent resentment, reverence clad in fear, and more… and that was just the guards. Even Temari, who had never failed to greet her with a warm welcome, brought with her a smidgen of unvoiced wariness. But even so…

"If you are truly committed, then a stable jinchuuriki is well worth the price of whatever problems are created in the process," the Kazekage pressed on before Kagome could put her unease into words. "But if you are not… if this is just the whim of an adolescent girl who thinks nothing of the complex world she is barging into nor of the consequences of her actions…then I shall put a stop to it here." He gestured at the bow in her hands. "If you falter before me, you will falter before every fear monger who panics at the thought of what you can do to Gaara… of what you can do alongside Gaara. So draw your bow, little priestess, and prove to me that you will not falter."

Kagome opened her mouth, closed it. The sheer bellicose rationale he was touting rankled badly to her sensibilities…

"I don't…" she started.

"...Use your power for violence?" he finished. They exchanged a look loaded with mutually knowing frustration. This was not the first time their ideologies and approaches to life came into conflict. Whereas Kagome followed the gentle path of Shintoism, the Kazekage was the leader of a warrior people. There couldn't be a worse match for this discussion.

"A commendable principle, but one ill at ease with the tenuous peace of this world. If you wish to live among us, priestess, you must learn our way of life. In this world, might is the caliper of every facet of society," he paused then, and gave her a hard, impatient look. "Time is wasting. Draw, or you shall never see nor hear of Gaara again."

Yes, time was wasting. She could see that nothing she could say would convince this stubborn old warhawk otherwise, and it frustrated her to no end. Mere words would not move him, but she didn't want to play by the rules he was setting either. An idea flashed by Kagome's head. Without saying another word, she planted her feet wide and moved to nock a single arrow on her bow. She drew the bowstring taut and as she glared at the man before her, she silently reached out with her senses the way she did to Yuhi in the heart of the orphanage ten days ago.

She only needed him to go to sleep now. For all that he was closed off to her like few others were, his spirit was pliant and open to her influence just like that of anyone else. She just needed to nudge it a little, made it wink out into dormancy for a mere moment. No pain, nothing drastic, nothing permanent. It was the least violent way she knew to put an end to this standoff between guardian and ward, teacher and unwilling student. Or at least, that was what she intended to do.

There was no warning preceding the sudden blow to her solar plexus. He didn't even twitch, nor had the expression on his face changed. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, hands still and visible. So Kagome had no warning when pain bloomed white and red in her vision and the force of the blow sent her stumbling backward and falling onto her rear. She wheezed painfully, trying to breath as her eyes swam with tears. In her peripheral vision, she glimpsed the fleeting ghost of gold dust gleaming softly under pale, weak light.

He had pulled his punch. That was blunt force. Had he used the edged end, the pointy end, as she had witnessed a rare few times before, he would have drawn blood… and a lot more. This was a warning blow… and irrefutable proof that he was completely serious with this ridiculous test.

"So it's the kind of technique that requires focus and a line of sight?" His voice drifted into her ears where it set off painful pings inside her skull. "A useful trick but it won't work a second time or against an alert opponent. Your intent gaze gave you away long before you could actually do anything, and that set-up diversion… just sloppy."

Of course he would know of the incident with Yuhi. He likely received reports on every detail of her day to day life. Kagome felt her temper flare. Her hands were still closed tight around the grip of the bow. Without even turning to look, she leapt up on one knee, brought her bow and the arrow to bear, and shot. Her arrow, guided not by her naked eyes, but by the extra sense that painted her world in washes of colors and impossible depths, flew straight for the chakra aura that marked the Kazekage. A dry, dull thud resounded in the stone chamber. She looked up and saw him looking down at her with something like mild approval. There was a thin, bloody line on his cheek. The arrow was behind him, lodged deep in the wall.

It was a statement. It was his statement. These arrows were tipped with iron. Had he wanted to, that one she had just shot wouldn't have flown anywhere near him._ Infuriating, overbearing, control freak of an old man!_ She felt something in her snap. She stood up, reached into the quiver and grabbed at the arrows still inside. She threw them violently at his feet where they made noisy clatters and kicked up dust.

"I am not a thing to be coddled and protected," she said…growled. She worked to keep her temper from showing. He was the type who would take advantage of her anger… of her… anything actually. "I am not something for you to put in an ivory tower and keep away from the world."

Her miko barrier went up, pink and shining in the dark chamber as it encircled her in a protective embrace. The remnants of Bunpuku Chagama's spirit that yet remained in the chamber hummed in answer to her presence as it recognized her kinship to it. The gold dust retreated from the light of her barrier, wary of provoking a fight with an alien entity.

"I am not a helpless little girl for you to lead around by the hand," She reached into her pocket and grabbed a handful of seeds that she had taken to always carrying around. Apples and pears and pomegranates. Fruit trees that were sure to bring smiles and laughter to the little children that followed her around when she was in town. At her touch, they sprouted, and grew, and bent their shape into that of a bundle of wooden arrows. Their blunted, ligneous tips would kill no one, but they would hurt a whole lot.

"I chose here. I chose you. I chose to stay. This is my choice," she knocked an arrow, aimed—He wanted to fight? Fine. They would fight. "So you better shut up and listen when I'm talking!"—and fired.

* * *

In hindsight, the fight was already over before it had even begun. Kagome held the boundless power of the completed Shikon no Tama within her, but was unwilling to call on even a minute fraction of its power and so stood as no more than a slightly above average Miko against the strongest of a warrior nation. Her sole battle potential lay in her barrier and her arrows.

Unfortunately, the Miko ki that fueled both was a poor opponent against this world's unique supernatural energy. Whereas Kagome's holy arrows would have been devastating against an opponent that was demonic or had a dark spirit, against the preternaturally strong but still entirely mortal Rasa, they were only slightly more effective than ordinary arrows.

As for her barrier... unlike the tanuki's dark aura, which was thick and solid much like the youki that was possessed by the demons of her world, the human equivalent in this world, this… chakra… that powered the Sand warrior's combat magic was as formless and immaterial as winter fog. It was a nasty surprise to find that trying to ward off chakra-powered attacks with her barrier was like trying to keep water from seeping through the gaps in her hands. What was her ultimate defense against even the strongest of demons was rendered a mere stopgap measure against the barrage of his attacks. After a brief initial tussle, Kagome ended up spending much of the fight on the defense as she fled from one menacing gold wave after another while desperately trying to come up with an effective way to push her opponent off his self-made pedestal.

They had gone at it for hours. One had stood perfectly still with even his hands unmoving whilst the other was run ragged from one end of the chamber to the other. She put up a good fight, but in the end, the sheer gulf in their combat experience—her relatively short two years of tangling with demons and evil sorcerers versus his lifetime of battles in many wars—was insurmountable. After a good three hours, the Kazekage still stood unmoved from the spot where he had planted himself while Kagome was reduced to a panting, aching heap on the floor. She was sweaty as well as black and blue all over. Her arms and legs were lacerated with a maze of shallow cuts. Around her and the Kazekage were strewn a mess of broken arrows. She had run out of seeds very early on and had had to improvise. The only thing that remained standing around her was the barrier, gleaming defiantly in the face of obvious defeat.

"Oren," called the Kazekage after a brief moment of silence. At his command, the thick bars blocking the entrance into the chamber lifted and the eldest of Kagome's maidens came in with a white and red box in hand. Only then did he finally move from his spot and approached her with Oren in tow. He stopped at the edge of her barrier and, though he could have passed through unharmed because of his humanity, chose not to.

"Let down your barrier," he commanded. He could have walked right through, but he wanted not only to beat her at this game, but also to have her concede defeat and admit to having learned her lesson. Of course, Kagome was having none of it. She pulled herself to a sitting position and glared darkly at him in response.

"You can stick out your tongue too, if you want to play at being a petulant little girl," he replied with one eyebrow raised in wry amusement. "Let. Down. Your barrier. I will not repeat again."

She remained stubbornly silent… until Oren timidly spoke up from her spot behind the Kazekage.

"Kagome-sama," her voice was soft, soothing, but marred by a worry that pulled at Kagome's conscience. "If we don't treat your wounds, they will become infected."

She liked Oren. The maiden's worry for her was genuine, and so was her dedication. She hated it when she had to needlessly worry the older woman. Oren might have only become her caretaker because of orders, but the older woman had come to care for her unconditionally. Slowly, reluctantly, she let the last of her Miko ki bleed from the barrier. It dissolved into thin air in the blink of an eye to leave in its wake a glum and grumpy miko. Oren dropped down by her side wordlessly, putting the medical supply box next to her and opening it to get to the balm and bandages inside. She eyed Kagome's gallery of injuries with muted distress as she picked up a clean pack of white gauze and an antiseptic bottle. Before she could start her work however, she was stopped by an outstretched hand.

"I'll do it," said the Kazekage as he settled himself on the other side and, in a surprising move, took over the task of patching up the beaten miko. Oren hesitated for a split second before nodding and relinquishing her supplies to her superior. "Of course, lord Kazekage," she said before backing off to a respectful distance.

Before Kagome's stunned gaze, he set to work. Using an antiseptic wipe made of a piece of gauze, he cleaned the cuts on her arms and legs, then rubbed them down with medicinal balm. For a pure warrior, he seemed to know what he was doing. There was no hesitation in his movements, his touch was light and mindful of her aching limbs, a stark contrast to the ruthless beatdown he just delivered but minutes ago.

"You may have plenty of spirit, but you are far short of the experience needed to protect yourself," he commented as he wrapped the gauze around a fresh cut on her shin. "And you just shouted so loudly that you were no child who needed to be protected. You gave me so many openings that a genin could have killed you a hundred times over." He tapped her leg as he tied up the bandages. "Learn so that you can do better next time."

Next time? There was to be a next time? Kagome eyed the Kazekage warily. She could tell he was up to something, or he wouldn't be doing… this. If he were trying to unbalance her, then he was doing a very good job at it.

"What are you… what are you up to?" she pressed, seeing no benefit to beating around the bush. He didn't answer immediately, nor even turn to acknowledge her. For a few minutes, he continued tending to the marks he himself had inflicted upon her, moving from her legs to her bloody arms. And then, out of nowhere.

"Your dead comrades… You were the one who killed them, weren't you?"

He said it so casually, as if he were merely commenting on the state of the weather, and only turned to glance at her from the corner of his eye at the tail end of his question. To Kagome though, his whimsical inquiry could have been the sound of thunder splitting the earth by her ears. She stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open. She was speechless for a full minute, her entire body shaking in shock and horror. The faces of her friends flashed by in her mind. Inuyasha, Sango, Miroku, Shippo, Kouga and his wolf tribe, Kaede, the villagers….

At once, the memories she had been repressing came to life around her, fresh as if it happened only yesterday. The hellish noise of the cries of the dying, the visions of bodies wracked in agony, the stench of burning flesh, the heat of the fire on her skin, the light of souls slipping from the mortal plane. A hundred. A thousand. Ten thousand. All lost in the fires.

As the world burned down, she danced and laughed and laughed and laughed, black hair swirling and flying in the wind. She was not human, not demon, not mortal, not spirit, not miko, not witch, not holy, not sacrilegious. She was born from nothing, and would one day vanish into nothing. Devour your mother. Subjugate your father. Born not from flesh but from limbo. Carve out a path of existence atop the blood and bones of others. Shine brighter and brighter. Become a nova. Wink out and disappear.

She felt herself become lighter and lighter, like air, like hot air borne on cold wind, floating higher and higher until she disintegrated into the aether. At last…

"You…" she got out weakly. The rest of the words escaped her in gasping whispers.

"So it's true. It was you who killed them." He turned to face her fully. He wore a knowing, contemplative look on his face. A dark wisdom. A killer recognizing his kin.

"I… I didn't…"

"... mean to do it?" he cut in before she could piece together a verbal defense. She started and jerked back as if she was about to turn tail and run, but her hand was clamped tight in the Kazekage's grip.

"Don't pull at the bandages," he said casually, then turned to nod at Oren. "Ice patches and salves." At once, the warrioress handed the requested items over.

" I will tell you a story," he said as he worked on the last of the cuts on her arm, leaving the ice patches and pot of salve in his lap. "In a land torn by war, a child is born with the power to put an end to the conflict. Perhaps her birth and the existence of her power is someone else's plan. Perhaps it is the plan of the gods. Perhaps her birth parents know, perhaps they don't. What is certain is that the child grows up unaware of what she holds within her. She goes to school, makes friends, and lives a normal life away from the frontlines. Until one day, her power awakens."

He tied the last knot, picked up the salve, and rubbed it on the enormous bruises on her cheek and shoulders.

"At first, it is exciting. She is special. Her world suddenly becomes much bigger. She goes places and meets people, makes lifelong friends, and maybe even falls in love. But then it quickly grows cumbersome. She is dealing in stakes that are far weightier than she is comfortable with. Forces bigger than she can imagine are out to get her. Now the war comes to her. Now she is embroiled in the thick of it. Now it is frightening as it never had been before."

Kagome trembled. His words were bullets that pierced her chest and lodged themselves deep in her heart.

"But there is no going back for her. Her power grows and the more it grows the more it attracts unwanted attention. The friends try to help, but her power is a never before seen force of nature and so they are helpless. The power is vital to putting an end to conflict, but she grows to hate it, fear it. Until one day, whether because she loses control of it, or she refuses to use it, her friends die."

He fastened the ice patches on her bruised shoulders. They were eye to eye. He kept on speaking. His voice was the asp's hypnotic gaze. She couldn't pull away.

"She is paralyzed with shock and grief, and then galvanized by guilt. Whatever reservation she had in regards to the power, she throws away, and in an uncontrolled burst, her power springs free. She kills whatever villain brought about the death of her friends, puts an end to conflict. Then she exiles herself, seals away the power, and swears never to use it again."

And then, suddenly and almost without warning, he was done, with both his story and patching up the injuries he himself had caused. They sat in a deafening silence, the one calm and still as stone and the other trembling with shock and horror.

"How… how…" Kagome forced herself to push out the question, but she felt as if all of her strength had left her. She felt empty, boneless. How did he…

"Everything," replied the Kazekage, not even needing to hear the full question to make a guess at what it would be. "Your disregard for your own life, your apathy to almost everything around you, even to yourself. Classic signs of post traumatic stress disorder. You mask it with kindness, but your kindness is a reflex, an old habit, a tic born from the guilt you bear. The people you help are all faceless to you. Were I to replace them with someone else tomorrow, you likely would not notice. And then, there's your aversion to aggression of all kinds, even when the situation perfectly warrants it," he nodded at the grave of Bunpuku Chagama. "Even monks with his temperament would fight back if someone was about to choke them to death. Your refusal to use your power for violence is not because you subscribe to some extreme pacifist ideals. You refuse to use your power because you fear it, you fear losing control, you fear repeating the mistake that saw you ending up here, in this land once more."

Everything he said was true. She had thought that she had hidden the truth very well, but was in fact quite transparent. And that just served to illuminate how much she didn't know about these people.

"And… and now that you know, what then? What happens now?" Were she to be cast out? Was she to be put in prison? He was paranoid as paranoia came, and loved his village so fiercely he would do anything to keep it safe and well. Many among the Go-Ikenban and the other top warriors of the village were the same, all born of the same mindset, the will of those who survived and conquered the great desert. She supposed it was simply how they lived. Kagome waited for the verdict. Regardless of whatever extreme measures the Kazekage had thought up to contain her and the power, she couldn't see herself resisting. She truly had nowhere left to go, and no one to turn to. She had very little resistance left in her now. Almost none. But what he said next was nothing of the sort.

"What happens next is up to you."

Kagome blinked, for a moment not believing her ears. Up to her? As if he hadn't constantly tried to tell her where she should be and what she should do since the day she met the chimera boy.

"Surprised? Don't be," he said in response to the questions in her expression. "This story is not such a rarity in this world. You are neither the first nor the last to be born with powers that are coveted by others. First generation bearers of powerful kekkei genkai rarely lead a peaceful life. Most die before they reach adulthood, crushed under the weight of their own power. There are hundreds of villages and small settlements for chakra wielders, but it takes a village of certain size and maturity to know how to handle first generation kekkei genkai of that magnitude. But even in our village, one among the great five, there are only two paths for these first children."

He held up a finger.

"One is complete abstention. A normal, quiet life is available to those who obey the village directives, stay out of the political arena, and render a great service to the public. That path is open to you, but something tells me you won't sit quietly by on the sidelines like a good little girl…"

He gave her a shrewd look, wordlessly referencing all of the troubles she had kicked up recently. Indeed she would not. She didn't mean to barge into their complex world, or to superimpose her values onto theirs, but there were things in the way the village operated that sat ill at ease with Kagome's sensibilities. She hadn't seen much, but the way that the people of the Sand village's children grew up conditioned to casual aggression and violence was… unsettling to say the least. She had seen kids as young as six or seven practicing with blunted metal weapons that were designed solely to maim and kill. She had seen shops selling weapons designed to cause the maximum of pain and suffering right alongside grocery stores selling the fruits and vegetables that came out of her plantations. She understood quite well the necessity of an armed and battle-ready population in a tumultuous world, having come from the bloodiest era in Japanese history… but this cavalier approach to intentional and systematic violence was something else entirely.

"The other path," continued the Kazekage, one hand sweeping to indicate the mess of broken arrows and splintered seeds on the ground around them. "is to master every facet of your power, to master it so completely that it becomes part of you and yours to use."

"No. No… ab… absolutely not…" she wasn't aware she was speaking until the words had already left her mouth and made a round of resounding echoes in the chamber.

"Running away solves nothing, priestess," said the Kazekage sternly, the way a teacher might put a recalcitrant pupil in line.

"You don't know what… what I can do…" she snapped back.

"That might be so," he conceded. "But here is what I know. If you do not master your power, it will master you instead. Is that what you want for your future priestess? To live forever in the shadow of what you were born?"

No. But the possibility of a repeat of what had happened in the Sengoku Jidai was terrifying to consider. Here, there would be none able to stop her.

"Even… even if my power threatens your people… your village?"

His response was immediate. The collar around her neck, the bangles on her wrists, the chains on her ankles. All gold and glittering, and all suddenly grew cold and heavy on her. A reminder of what he could do. It was almost gentle by the standards of the warrior Kazekage, but his message was perfectly clear to her.

He gave her a mildly amused look. "What was it you said in the Go-Ikenban chamber? That you are made of flesh and blood just like everyone else?" His hand was held out in her direction, fingers spread as if beckoning the gold he had put on her. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"No," replied Kagome flatly. Not after that revelation about Gaara, even if he did have his own reasoning behind it. Men like him could sacrifice anything… would sacrifice anything in the name of the good they deemed greater. There was something familiarly monstrous about that and it had never failed to make Kagome stand straighter and put her guard up whenever he was around, this unforgivingly harsh teacher she never asked for.

He seemed to be amused by her blunt answer, perhaps even approved of it. "Fair enough," he said. "Let me rephrase that then. Do you trust that I will put the safety and welfare of this village above all else? That I will do everything in my power to protect the people of this nation?"

That… that was a whole lot more complicated to answer. Not that she doubted the Kazekage would fall short of his duty as protector and leader of his village. But one person's idea of civil progress and safety was not necessarily that of other people. Still, were she to lose control, he would be the first to attempt to rein her in, dead or alive. He would likely succeed too. For all that her soul held the boundless power of the Shikon no Tama, her body was mortal and susceptible to all the weaknesses that came with it.

He read the answer in her expression and smiled darkly. "Then you have everything you need to make a decision. What shall it be for you? The quiet, protected life only provided that you obey orders? Or the freedom provided by mastering yourself?"

He stood up then, brushed the dirt and dust from his knees and nodded at Oren. Behind him, the bars that blocked the entrance into the chamber were lifted open. The grim-faced guards relaxed from their vigil and set into waiting formation.

"But we will get to that decision in another day. For now, it's past time for you to go home. Come."

* * *

**End Chapter 12**

* * *

1\. This half chapter initially was initially 18 000 words long. When I wrote it I just thought: let's cover this and this and this, and maybe this too. Before I knew it, it had ballooned into a massive near 20k words monstrosity. So, after some consideration, I split the chapter in half. This is the first half (of the half chapter. Damn it's getting confusing). The second half is already finished and undergoing proofreading and minor rewriting of parts. I will post the next chapter in a day or two. Enjoy!


	15. Chapter 12: The Quiet After 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Betas: Michelle T., AstaraelDarkrahBlack

**Chapter 12: The Quiet After - The Quiet Before (Part 3)**

* * *

The walk back was subdued. Kagome trailed dejectedly behind the Kazekage, followed by a mute Oren. Mei received them at the door, gasping softly when she spotted the bandages swathing her charge. Behind Mei wafted the scent of lunch made hot and ready for Kagome.

"You will begin your sessions with Gaara twice a week after the Maharra," declared Rasa as he stood at the door. "Each session will last no more than two hours and you will be under close observation. The exact location will be made known to you at a later date. Inside of these sessions, you will have the liberty to freely apply your power and whatever other methods of treatment that you deem necessary on Gaara provided that doesn't disturbs anyone outside of the perimeter of the location. Outside of these sessions, you are not to seek him out without my express permission. Is that acceptable to you, priestess?"

Kagome nodded wordlessly to his question. For the entirety of the three hours that they had fought, she hadn't been able to move him even an inch from his spot. Technically she had failed the test, yet he had acquiesced to her request anyway. She had a feeling that was what he had been planning before he had even stepped foot in her quarters in the temple earlier this morning. Their sojourn into Bunpuku Chagama's chamber, the ridiculous test, was all just to see her sing and dance to his tune, to reveal whatever it was he wanted. _The scheming bastard. _

Despite herself, Kagome was too drained and too emotionally empty to muster anything more than a twinge of irritation at this realization. She stood in the vestibule of her quarters, on the other side of the door, as she watched him turn and leave. Before he could take three steps from her door though she quietly called out to him.

"Rasa…"

He stopped and turned halfway back to look at her inquisitively. The midday sun through the windows of the hallway painted him half in light and half in shadow, putting his profile into sharp relief.

"Whatever plans you have in mind for me," she said, softly, but firmly. He hadn't completely beaten the fight out of her just yet. "Your path of violence… I won't walk it…" she paused, weighing the possibilities before giving in. Despite everything that had happened between them, he still was the first to have taken her in and taught her most of the things that she knew of this world. He was a difficult man, but this was a difficult world. In a way, the dangers here were even more treacherous than that of the demon infested Sengoku Jidai. Before this month of tension and argument, there had been half a year of quietly harmonious coexistence. She missed the peaceful evenings when he would bring over a map and point out to her where they were taking in refugees from neighboring warring nations, how many lives she helped feed, and the good that she did under his mantle. He wasn't Kazekage then. He was… Shadow of the Wind Rasa-san. It reminded her of a simpler time.

Despite everything, Miko were never taught to judge and hate. Even when the opponent's thinking was in complete opposition to their ideologies, compassion and faith in the better nature of men and women had always been their way, would always be their way.

"And…" she clenched her battered fist fight against her chest, then loosened it gradually as she let the tension bleed from her. "... and… I wish... that you wouldn't have to walk it too."

He seemed surprised, if the expression that flashed across his face in the blink of an eye was any indication in the moment that he had been caught off-guard. He stood still and quiet for a long time, as if he did not know how to respond, until a guard turned and lowered his head respectfully at his liege lord.

"Kazekage-sama? The council meeting is star..."

"A moment," he replied, cutting the guard off, then turned his attention back to her.

"You… turned eighteen last month, didn't you?"

Yes. But amidst the turmoil caused by the meeting of the chimera boy and god-slaying miko, that occasion had been forgotten.

"By the civilian laws, you are now an adult," he continued. "We don't all get to bring the ideals of our childhood with us into adulthood, Miko. Life is a harsh mistress, and reality harsher. One must adapt or be swept away. Nevertheless, I thank you for your well-wishing… regardless of its naivete."

He paused, looked at her one last time—"Happy belated birthday"—then turned and walked away.

* * *

Baki was waiting for him as he entered the administrative building holding both his office and the council chamber. Without a directive from him, his guards dispersed into the shadows as Baki took up position next to him.

"So?" he asked the question out loud that was on both of their minds, to which Rasa shrugged in response. He knew that the jounin had been watching his interaction with the Miko inside the first jinchuuriki's chamber via a surveillance jutsu. There really was no need for him to elaborate.

"So even the so-called god slayer is not all that tough against mortal opponents, huh? She caved pretty quickly," observed Baki casually as they passed the threshold into the Kazekage's office.

"I beg to differ," said Rasa the moment the door closed behind them. His comment prompted a curious glance from Baki.

"You disagree, lord Kazekage?"

"I do."

He crossed the room and sat down at his work desk. He eyed the new mountain of paperwork on the table with distaste before turning back to Baki.

"It is not expedient to compare two vastly different power systems on the merits of a single combat situation," he stated before pulling down the neck of his black jounin shirt to reveal the rows of seal tags plastered to his skin beneath it. The black fuin script on them glimmered like burning embers. The foreign Miko ki contained in them thrummed with power.

Baki stared at the seals with wide eyes, naked surprise on his face.

"Those are…"

"Chakra sapping seals, modified to leech a different form of power, hers." He pulled one tag free of his shoulder and held it up for Baki to see. It hummed softly in his hand, the foreign entity inside fighting to escape containment. Baki studied the seal and the foreign energy held inside intently.

"It seems to disrupt the flow of chakra around it," he observed.

"It does," agreed the Kazekage. "The moment her arrow hits anything, it cuts the flow around it and disrupts any and all forms of chakra-powered technique for about two seconds."

"Like a weaker version of Konohan Gentle Fist?"

"Weaker? I suppose it is weaker if you look at its transient effect." He put the seal on the table, pulled an envelope from the drawer of his desk, put the seal inside, closed it with a stamp of his office insignia, then wrote the address of the R&amp;D department on the envelope. "But take note of other aspects. It does not need to hit the exact location of a tenketsu to have an effect. Its disruption effect on chakra is universal, so likely it will also work on inanimate objects infused with chakra as well. And unlike the Juken's melee application, it can be used at range. Think of what our scouts could do with it. They encounter a barrier seal array with heavy defensive forces at its feet? Shoot it out from afar. Non-fuinjutsu-proficient operatives encountering a high-level seal work in the field or during infiltration? No need to waste time and opportunity by calling in a fuinjutsu specialist. A tag loaded with this Miko-ki is all that is needed."

He put the envelope away on the pile to be mailed out to various departments in the village's administrative machine. That should satisfy half of the Go-Ikenban and give him some time to maneuver his pieces on the board.

"In terms of pure brute force, yes, it is weaker. But on a tactical level, it has many more superior applications in the field than a brute's finger-poking barrage."

"... And her ineffective barrier?"

"It is likely that is only because she is unused to chakra. The chakra of the Tailed beasts is far denser than that of a normal human. She is accustomed to fighting more solid opponents. With time and practice, she can probably adapt. If she can modify her barrier to work as well against a human, as it does against a tailed beast, then it would be a formidable defense indeed."

Especially with the absolutely enormous version she had put up in the Sunyard to protect the civilians and shinobi alike against Shukaku. If it could be applied in combat situations or in the frontlines of international skirmishes, he could see it turning the tables completely.

"And… keep in mind that we probably have seen only a fraction of what she can really do. This is but the surface of a field of quicksand. What lies beneath we know not."

Baki whistled—"I am glad that she landed in Kaze no Kuni then. I would hate to find out what Iwagakure could do with someone like her."—and then went straight for the matter at hand. "Your directive sir?"

He leaned back in his chair, threaded his hands below his chin. "You are to supervise her sessions with Gaara. Let neither Kankuro nor Temari approach the sessions. Temari is making good progress and Kankuro will be introduced during the Maharra. It is too early to tell how her interactions with Gaara will go. Therefore, it is vital to keep her association with the three to a minimum."

He drew in a breath. Whenever he thought of the jinchuuriki, things always became hard. Why? He was the Kazekage and that was all that should matter. "Your priority is the safety of Miko Kagome Higurashi. Gaara… is of inferior tactical importance. Interfere if you deem the situation to be too dangerous. Protect her… at all costs."

* * *

The next four days passed in a blur of activities and preparations until finally, the Maharra was at their door. On the day of the festival, Kagome woke up all bright-eyed and eager the second Mei came to knock on the door of her bedroom.

"Kagome-san" the warrioress's voice floated in through the stucco slide door.

"I'm up!" answered Kagome as she bounded around the room to gather up her things and headed for the shower. She was to join the opening procession of the new year's festival today. How exciting! She rushed through the hall and jumped for the shower room, Chiyome's squeak of surprise trailing behind as she cut a sharp corner over her. When she came out of the shower room, still sopping wet, and into the hallway, Oren was waiting for her with a bundle in hand.

"Come on," said the older woman as she led Kagome to the living room. "You don't want to be late."

"Where's Temari?" asked Kagome as she pulled open the bundle to reveal the outfit she was to wear for the day. A long, flowing kimono-like garment and sash ensemble in white and red made from fine linen and silk. It was slightly reminiscent of the traditional garments of a Miko, but adapted to Sunagakure's formal dress code and stifling weather. Clearly someone had taken great pains to recreate her vague description of what she used to wear in her homeland. She touched the cloth with one hand. It was warm with the echoes of the creator's adoration.

"We will meet up with Temari at the administrative building," replied Oren as she shoved a stacked plate on the table in front of Kagome "Breakfast."

"Eating," chirped the young miko as she vacillated between pulling on the robe and wolfing down a sandwich. Someone had taken a brush to her hair and was now fighting the wet, tangled bedhead into submission. Around Kagome, the living room was a flurry of activities as the warrior maidens prepared for their attendance at the opening rite.

"Where are my shoes?!" hissed a panic-stricken Mokoto as she scoured the room for her missing sandals.

"Your shoes?! What about my silver Kanzashi?! I bought that stuff especially for this!" shrieked Aiki in reply. "Oh kami… is that my kanzashi on your head? Give that back here you two-tailed snake!"

"Ladies! Ladies!" Oren shouted over the din, attempting to bring order to chaos. "Play nice! And do it quick or we are going to be late. Mei, give Aiki back her Kanzashi. If you wanted a pretty silver Kanzashi on your head you should have bought it yesterday. Yuhi, how's the situation outside?"

"Packed, taichou," reported the warrior maiden. "This year's Maharra is pretty popular. I hear half the outer outposts are all in Sunagakure right now. And trade caravans outside the village boundary. Fifty of them. Big ones. We are going to have big a new year celebration week. And of course, the Wind daimyo is here."

"He's actually showing his face?" Hirano quipped. "When was the last time he actually cared about what his ninja are up to? Ten years ago?"

"It just shows how our fortunes have changed." commented Yuhi as she fixed her tanto to the sash of her formal robe. "For the daimyo to personally come and join the sunrise procession. Think he and Lord Kazekage will talk business afterwards? I hear they haven't seen each other in five years."

"No time to gossip about that now, girls," Oren cut in as she tied Kagome's hair back, which had grown to her waist, with a strip of white cloth and then smoothed out her collar. "We should be moving. Escort formation two. Outside. Now."

The sheer efficiency of the warrioresses was a marvel to Kagome everytime she witnessed it. Despite the state of utter chaos they had been in but moments ago, at Oren's command, they all snapped to attention and galvanized themselves into action. Within seconds, they were ready and out the door.

"Kagome-sama," Oren turned to her with one hand outstretched. "Shall we go?"

She swallowed the last of the sandwich, brushed the crumbs from her face and nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

They followed the rooftop route as usual. The warrior maidens leaped from the sides to the tops of buildings under a dark sky, somehow still keeping their formation as they did so. At the center of their group was Oren carrying Kagome in her arms. They made quick work of the distance between the temple and the administrative complex halfway across the village at its heart. Along the way, Kagome glimpsed groups of veiled warriors trailing them, acting as an extra escort through the particularly crowded village. When they arrived, they were received by a group of warriors in full armor, then led through the entrance into a spacious foyer area filled with people in formal robes milling about.

In the middle of this foyer stood Temari.

"Morning princess," chirped Kagome the moment Oren put her down on solid ground. "You're looking very lovely today."

Temari flushed at her compliment, then muttered. "Don't use kunoichi-lit lines on me. It sounds so weird coming from you!"

"I know," grinned Kagome. "It's why I do it. I am good student, no?" Temari sputtered incoherently at this before pulling her by the hand deeper into the round office complex and up several flights of stairs, leaving Oren and the maidens behind.

"Come on, it's about to start," said the younger warrior girl as they entered a vaulted room. Pointing at a startled looking boy, she said.

"This dork over here is Kankuro, my younger brother. He's a year younger than me. Kankuro, come say hi! This is Kagome. She's going to be around."

The boy named Kankuro approached her gingerly, an interesting mixture of boyish awkwardness and adolescent perpetual irritation on his face. He was almost a carbon copy of his father in appearance; with slanted eyes, messy dark hair, and cheeks still plump with the vestiges of youth.

"Uh… hi…" he muttered in her general direction.

"Oh kami, you are hopeless," quipped Temari at her brother's less than enthusiastic greeting before turning around to whisper conspiratorially into Kagome's ears.

"Don't mind Kanky. Apparently he still thinks girls have got cooties and he doesn't want any of that icky stuff. He's just a baby about icky stuff you know? And he plays with dolls too."

"You take that back!" shrieked Kankuro, immediately going red in the face. "I don't think girls have cooties! And…"

That was as far as he got, for at the next second, the door opened to admit the bald warrior she had met after the tanuki incident. Baki.

"Children…" he looked from one sibling to another in a mild warning, and then at Kagome. "Kagome-san," he greeted her with a sharp inclination of his head before turning back to the siblings. "Get ready. Your father and the council are coming."

At his statement, the two teenagers snapped to attention and shouted in unison, "Yes, Baki-sensei." Baki, apparently satisfied that he had gotten the rowdy teens in place, continued across to the other side where a set of metal doors opened the room to a wide, open balcony that overlooked the village and the sunyard down below. The moment he turned his back and was out of earshot though, Temari and Kankuro immediately swiveled around to give each other challenging looks.

"Just you wait 'til field practice," whispered Kankuro furiously beneath his breath. "I'll show you all the new traps on Karasu… up close!"

"You try it, baby brother," returned Temari in kind, effecting a mocking sneer. "I'll slice your little wooden dolls to pieces with my new battle fan. And then we're going to see who's the real girl in the house of the Kazekage."

Kagome, who had witnessed everything up 'til now, couldn't help but burst out in muffled giggles at their antics. To think the perpetually grim and proper Rasa-san would have these little tykes for children… Alerted by the sound of her laughter, the teens turned around. Temari grinned in shared humor whereas Kankuro flushed with embarrassment.

"Come on," Temari stretched out a hand to her. "Stand between us. You remember how the ceremony is going to go right?" Kagome came over when the younger girl beckoned to her, sliding herself in between a grinning Temari and sullen Kankuro as she recounted what she knew of this day.

The first day of Maharra—the people of the Sand's week-long New Year festival. It began with an opening rite held in the Kazekage office building before dawn, and then a procession on a path through the village, and then the anointing of this year's water bearer. This first rite was usually reserved only for the family of the Kazekage and the upper echelons of village administration while the rest of Sunagakure bore witness down below in the plaza and the streets surrounding the building. But this year, Kagome was to join in on the rite as a participant. Supposedly, it was part of her integration as a member of this village.

It was exciting. It was scary. A New Year's celebration. She couldn't remember the last time she went to one. The memory was… distant, as if it was a lifetime away. In the last week, Temari had walked her through the steps. She would not need to actually do much if anything. She was simply required to stand with the Kazekage's children as he carried out the rite and led the procession. Afterwards, she was free to join in with the public celebration so long as she was accompanied by at least one of her guards and Temari. Still, the thought of participating in an occasion of revelry after so long, right after her tacit house arrest filled her with anxious excitement.

"They're coming," whispered Temari on her left while on her right, Kankuro straightened himself again. Just as the young warrior girl predicted, in the next minute, the door opened once again. Two guards in full armor and headdress led the way, each pushing one wing of the double door. After them, the Kazekage—in his full white robes and hat of office—led a retinue of the Go-Ikenban and high-ranking government officers. Unlike the children who had come barging in, the adults arrived in an orderly fashion that was not much different from a military parade. The Kazekage spared them a glance as he passed them by on the way to the great balcony. Following him, a few of the Go-Ikenban greeted the children.

"Temari-chan," said a jubilant Joseki. "What a fine kunoichi you have grown up to be." On his other side, Sajo reached out to ruffle Kankuro's hair goodnaturedly. "Kankuro! This little brat grows up so fast. I remember putting him on my knee and teaching him how to put the joints of a puppet together not all that long ago."

A few of them greeted her with some reservation, Goza and Joseki and Yura with the goatee and slanted hair. A few others didn't even look in her direction at all, preferring to keep their gaze pinned to the back of their leader.

Temari, unaware of the nervous tension thrumming through the ranks of the Go-Ikenban at the sight of Kagome, pulled on her hand and towards the door leading to the open terrace. "Come on," she said. "We have front row seats."

They made their way through the throngs of people pouring into the terrace and took up position right behind the Kazekage. Just as Temari promised, they had a place in the front row, though they still stood a good nine or ten feet behind him. Someone took up point on the left of the crowd and at the signal of a bronze gong, they dropped down onto one knee in unision.

Kagome dropped alongside them as the memories of Temari's explanation supplied a narrative for the rite taking place before her.

The Maharra, the largest cultural celebration of the Wind nation, was also celebrated inside of Sunagakure itself, though the warrior community had their own unique rites and practices. first day started before dawn with the sunrise ceremony. The Kazekage led the upper echelons of the village as they waited for the sun to rise. In the vast, open desert, the sun was the eternal monarch and all kneeled before it regardless of station.

As they waited patiently in their respectful position, slowly the skies lightened and the air thinned. The sun appeared first as a red halo burning on the horizon above the jagged silhouette of the mountain ranges that surrounded the village. Then the halo coalesced into a thin red line that slowly bled into the pink and yellow canopy of the heavens. And then; it emerged above the mountain ranges, the sun; vast, glorious, and unending. At its presence, a veil of blazing light of dawn poured down the mountainsides and into the village.

There came a long blast from a horn. Then the sounds of great bells followed, they tolled from the eight great temples of Sunagakure. One by one their voices raised in a harmonious chord that rang from one end of the village to the other. A chant began, pitched in a hundred thousand voices. An ancient poem, a hymn, a rhyme, a solemn song of sorrow—but also of hope everlasting penned by some great unnamed forefather.

_I am the wind_

_See me, unsee me_

_I am the wind_

_Howling, roaring, whirling_

_In between black rock mountains_

_I am the wind_

_Sift through the hourglass of souls_

_I am the wind_

_I will not fail you, nor leave your side_

_In the honey fragrance of rich meadows_

_Where you lay beneath half moon and full sun_

_I am the wind_

_Breathe my warmth through your cold fingers_

_That fall ever so slow. _

He rose then, the Kazekage of Sunagakure, and was bathed in the first light of dawn as he raised his hands heavensward.

Then came water. The bearer of life in the vast wasteland. The sign of peace and hope.

He turned his hands and a rumble shook the earth. A valve deep beneath the ground of the Kazekage's office building opened, and water came rushing through the pipes, up and up and out through an opening on the side of the complex, gushing like a geyser onto the crowd below.

Rain in the desert. Manmade.

As it poured down in torrents, a roar from the hundred thousands of Sunagakure citizens waiting in attendance down below billowed up, jubilant and joyful amidst the ringing chords of great bells. He moved from his spot and went to the railing at the edge of the great balcony, and from there he addressed the people.

"It has been a bountiful year, my desert folk. I suppose you are eager to begin celebrating. Worry not, for I shall not keep you long." His voice rang out, echoing in the vast emptiness. It was answered by thunderous cheers from a multitude of throats. "It has been a great year, despite unrest in the south and enemies in the north. We stand strong again, against all odds, richer and more secure in the place where could make a home but us." They drank up his words. Eager ears and eager minds. The year had been kind to them, and few had cause to complain. "I could not ask for a greater people. I look upon you and I see an enduring nation, willing to brave the harshest land in all the known world for the good of all. Listen and witness as our years of perseverance are answered with just rewards. Look, for we have new life among us—a green land, a new hope."

Indeed, there were new spots of green in the very heart of the village. Groves of trees by the trenches and climbing vines that covered old, cracked walls. It was the work of a few weeks, performed after sundown, and only when each area was safely secured for her presence.

"Gone are our days of lack." The roar grew. "Gone are the times when we allowed vultures to prey on the weak and the poor among us." And grew. "Gone are the days of dependency on a distant ruler who will not hear our cries." And became deafening. Joy and anger. Hope and a thirst for vengeance. "Together, we will open a new page in the history of Sunagakure. One of strength, and wealth, and liberty!"

The crowd erupted. A hundred thousand voices. A hundred thousand faces. Spurred on by the great fortune of this year and persisting wounds of the past. He held out both hands then, palms down, and at once they quieted.

"But we did not come to where we are alone, my brothers and sisters. We had help," he declared. "People of Sunagakure, on this joyous occasion, I would like to introduce to you the newest member of our great village. She who has made this new hope possible for all of us."

He turned around then and held out a beckoning hand to her.

For a moment, Kagome was stunned speechless, still kneeling on the marble clad floor of the grand balcony. Then there was a soft push to her back and Temari whispered in her ears. "Go on…"

Hesitantly, she stood up and went to him as if in a daze. The high emotions pouring from a hundred thousand hearts filled her mind and her eyes. As she neared him, she asked quietly.

"What are you trying to do?" She was only supposed to observe today. It was supposed to familiarize and immerse her in the culture of her new home. No one said anything about her being put on the spot before who knew how many people. But the Kazekage she knew never did anything without a reason.

He took her hand where the old seal yet remained in her palm. His voice, and not the voices of the people of her past, flowed into her mind through it. She had gained enough understanding of the native language for the communication seal to revert to its original function.

'Is this not what you wanted, priestess? These are the people that you wish to help. Don't you want to meet them after all the times that you have asked to come out from the temple?'

There was a moment when she briefly considered backing away, but her hand was clamped tightly in his grip and with it he pulled her towards him and towards the edge of the balcony where the crowd yet waited for her.

'Whatever dark past lies behind you, think no more of it. From this day forth, you are one of us,' he whispered through the seal in her palm and then pushed her gently forward to face the sea of people down below.

He declared her name to his people then, the way a royal herald would call out the name of some great person. "Sunagakure, at last, meet Kagome Higurashi… of the desert."

She was overwhelmed in moments. The people that stood below her were the common folk who had benefited the most from her presence in Sunagakure. They recognized her almost immediately. Their hearts burned like the light of fireflies and they were as numerous as stars in the sky. At last, they got to meet the elusive green spirit of the desert. A reverent hush spread in the plaza before the office of the Kazekage. In the stillness, she felt them reach out to her, their spirits high. Hope and hunger. Gratitude and greed. The clamors of countless hearts in want and need. She saw many among the crowd come to tears at the sight of her, holding their hands skyward as if they could touch her from their place down below.

"Miko-sama," their calls came, at first quiet and timid, as if testing boundaries. Then louder and louder they grew. A whisper in the wind, a buzz, then a chant of an army of devotees. "Miko-sama" "Miko-sama" "Miko-sama". Her name came rolling off their tongues like a prayer, a cry, a call to rally.

Instinctively, she recoiled and was about to take a step back when a hand on her back stopped her.

"Remember, this is your choice," came the Kazekage's voice in her ears. "You chose to stay. You chose us. Look… look at your people, priestess. Look at the people you saved. You are their Miko. Never take your eyes away."

Yes, this was her choice. Coming here was her choice. Helping was her choice. But this mad adoration taking shape before her was not something she had considered, or even wanted. They were on the verge of worship. Some of them at least, their hearts filled with mad love not for the girl named Kagome but for this spirit of the desert who had performed a miracle and granted them new chances at life.

Was this what the Kazekage had been sheltering her from by keeping her in the solitude of the temple? Was this how Kikyo felt? Kikyo who was the Miko of the Shikon no Tama before her, who had a divine existence of adoration and worship in the eyes of the villagers. Kikyo who grew tired of her status as the divine Miko, whose loneliness before her death sapped at her strength until she was but a former shell of herself. Kagome could see something similar happening to her. Yet, this was the life she had chosen for herself. To take up the mantle of miko in Kikyo's stead and live the life that she should have lived.

She braced herself, and took a step forward. At her back, she could feel the roil of emotions coming from the Go-Ikenban members and the upper echelons of Sunagakure. Surprise, anger, delight, fear, hope. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at the Kazekage. Had he, perhaps, just made some political move by presenting her to the people of Sunagakure on this platform? Now that they had seen her—had put a face to the name, the legend, and the miracle they saw every day as they passed the village boundaries—Kagome couldn't see the Go-Ikenban members calling for her incarceration getting anywhere with their complaints now, not without kicking up some major civil troubles. Was that his intention in pushing her into the public eye of the village on this occasion?

No… it was probably something even more than that. Her first teacher in this land was never one for small thinking. He liked to weigh things, and to always be prepared. She looked down at the crowd and saw in them not just a simple people in a joyous day of the year. Beneath the jubilation, a thread of resentment waiting to be unleashed. Before Kagome, they had endured a great deal of hardship and injustice. She had heard about it secondhand from Yuhi and the girls, of an alliance for peace soured by the foolish conduct of a far-off ruler, the daimyo of Wind nation. Instead of being rewarded for their sacrifice and efforts, they were cut down and marginalized. To survive, they gritted their teeth, let the insults fade from their ears, and soldiered on. Her presence here, in this village, meant a kind of economic freedom… and consequently political freedom such as had never before been available to these desert folks. That their leader could afford to throw a barely veiled verbal riposte at the daimyo in his new year speech whilst said daimyo was present among the dignitaries was proof of how far their relationship had deteriorated.

And now that they had regained their footing once again, all of their bottled up enmities had returned and they fueled a thirst for battle, for conflict, for retribution. And he, the Kazekage, meant to make her into a rallying symbol.

It was a sobering thought. Kagome hadn't woken up that morning prepared to become a political and cultural symbol to a people, much less a possible rally call to… whatever plans of retribution were brewing in the minds of Sunagakure leaders. But of course, she was not about to let that happen. She took another step forward and pressed her body against the railing.

"I won't let myself be swept away," she said quietly to the Kazekage behind her. "I won't let anyone use me as a tool for violence… no matter the cause" If she knew anything about him, this would be something he already expected. But nevertheless...

She spread her hands open before the crowd and, for the second time since coming into this world, loosened the self-inflicted seal on the bulk of her power. It flooded her being with its warmth. A part of her soul, partitioned off in an act of self-mutilation, the core of her spirit. A Miko's purification had a different effect on humans than on demons. On the latter, it would have been fatal, but on the former, it simply served to lift the spirits and cleanse the souls. Not that such an effect was simple to those that she touched. She spread her light over the plaza, an ethereal glow that made the sensors among the warriors jump and look up in wonder and bewilderment. At once, the shadow of enmity and resentment faded from the faces of the people.

_For today only, forget these past hurts and rejoice in what you still have. It's a new day, a new future._

Their hearts would not change of course. Their will was their own and Kagome would never do something as callous and unthinking as bend another sentient being's will to her whims with her spiritual power, but for today at least, let them be free of pain and hatred and heartache; let them feel joy, and love, and at least momentary forgiveness. Then she spoke up for the first time to the cheers of the crowd.

"Good morning, Suna…"

The man-made rain lasted for maybe an hour before it stopped and the water was gathered up by those with a water affinity into large reservoirs under the administrative complex. Then the second part of the rite—the procession through a set path in the village—started. Because of its unique geography, a complex system of marble clad, open-air trenches was carved into the foundation of Sunagakure itself. Parts of the trenches were laid out upon the ground, whilst other parts rose into the air much like the aqueducts of ancient Greek in her old world. Once, when the oasis was vast and overflowing, these trenches were filled with water pumped up from a central station which branched out to provide for every house in the village. Those days were but a distant memory. Today, the trenches were dry and empty for most of the year, harboring nothing but street urchins, beggars and other outcasts of society. A newer and more efficient system of underground pipes worked in its place. However, for a single day of the year, on the first day of the Maharra, these trenches were once more to be filled with water.

"It's a feat of hydraulic engineering and architecture," said Temari when she explained it to Kagome. "And of a squad of dedicated water ninjutsu specialist." It was a great feat alright, for water to fill even a small part of the desert in a single day. To Kagome, who had subsided on an ascetic diet of one single canteen of water a day in her first two months in Sunagakure, the gesture seemed obscenely luxurious. The oasis might have long since shrunken down to a still pond, but Sunagakure itself still sat upon a massive natural aquifer. With careful management and quick recycling of their natural water reserves, such feats were possible for at least a short period of time.

The procession followed the path of the main trench and took an hour until finally they ended up at the gate of the village where a sea of people waited before the opened gate. Here was the third part of the rite. The anointing of the water bearer who would embark on a fast trek through the desert to bring water to every outpost of Suna within Wind nation.

"By bringing water, we don't mean a tank, or a jug, or a canteen or anything simple like that," explained Temari. "But a small river. A stream, I guess, if you want to be technical."

The practice dated back to the reign of the first Kazekage, who brokered a lasting peace and alliance between the many nomadic warrior tribes of the desert via the gift of water. Fresh, drinkable water was invaluable in the harsh desert. All other riches paled in comparison. As long as they ceased their hostilities, came together under one banner, and declared the first Kazekage to be their leader. The people of the Oasis would ensure that they never go thirsty again. This village-founding alliance had prompted the construction of a channel system that connected the Oasis' water reservoir with major outposts under the newborn Sunagakure banner. The Desert Channels, so named by the people who built it, was a marvel of hydraulic engineering, architecture, and Fuinjutsu applied on a massive scale. It began with one main channel linked to the trench system in Sunagakure, then extended out on the surface of the desert, winding between dunes and cliffs before branching off towards the various offshoot garrisons, outposts and settlements under Suna's banner. Just like the intravillage trenches, the massive stone channels were more a defunct symbol of the founding covenant than an actual functioning water supply system. And also like the trenches, the channels lay deserted and abandoned for most of the year, and awakened only during the time of Maharra by a single designated water bearer.

In the plaza before the gate, a young man stood in full travelling gear. He brightened the instant the procession led by the Kazekage came in sight. Kagome hung back behind the Kazekage along with most of the procession and watched the proceedings as the Kazekage approached the designated water bearer of the year to perform the formal anointing. This young man was to run non-stop on a path through the desert while bearing a seal cypher. Unlike the open-air trenches inside the village, the trans-desert channels were closed by a massive seal network for security reasons. Only with the correct cypher would the massive channels open up and be transformed into the vast network of manmade waterways of their heyday.

"That's cousin Reto," Temari whispered into her ears. "He made jounin this year and was cleared for the run. He looks pretty cute yes?"

Kagome blinked, for a second caught off guard by the question. Indeed the young man standing a few feet away was very easy on the eye. He looked about her age, with a lean, wiry frame typical of desert folk and sculpted shoulders. His distinctive slanted eyes and deep auburn messy hair marked him a relative of the Kazekage and his children. He had a dreamy look about his face, a certain wow factor that she was sure made him popular with the ladies. Her old high school friends Yuka and Eri certainly would have appreciated his looks. Kagome hadn't even noticed it until Temari pointed it out to her.

"I… suppose so," she ventured, feeling slightly out of place. At the same time, the anointing was complete.

"Whose blessing will you seek, young shinobi?" said the Kazekage loudly so that the crowd could hear.

The blessing was the last part before the water bearer took off into the desert. Traditionally, chosen water bearers asked for a blessing of safety and fleet foot from either their comrades, families or friends. The reigning Kazekage was also a popular choice.

The young warrior, Reto, bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet as he scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Perhaps it was because of her position between Temari and Kankuro but it didn't take long for his eyes to fall upon her.

There was barely a moment of hesitation before he stood up straight and declared.

"I ask for a blessing… from Miko-san."

A great clamor kicked up in the crowd at the sound of her title. Surprised exclamations interspersed with shouts of approval at the top of the lungs. At his request, the Kazekage turned to address her.

"Does Miko Kagome Higurashi acquiesce?"

Around Kagome people backed away in order to let her come to the fore of the crowd's attention. Before Temari could back away too far though, she grasped the girl's hand in panic. "What…" she started. "What do I do? What?! This…" Nobody prepared her for this!

The younger girl laughed at the panic in her voice. "Relax!" she said. "You just nod your head, go out there and… bless him."

Bless him? How?!

Before Kagome could ask any more questions, Temari had already weaseled her way out her grasp and disappeared into the crowd of smiling faces. For a second, Kagome debated going after the younger girl, but before she could actually make an attempt, her name was called once again.

"Miko Kagome," repeated the Kazekage. "Do you agree to give the blessing?" There were good natured pleas coming from the crowd now as several cheerful people took it upon themselves to make a case for the young warrior in waiting. "Or should our water bearer seek it from another source?"

She turned around woodenly to face the Kazekage and the water bearer… what was his name again? Reto… right! She didn't have a clue what she was supposed to do, but the other alternative was to snub him in front of the entire village and she was pretty sure that was not a kosher thing to do on the first day of Maharra.

Having no other choice, Kagome took first one step, then another, and another, so that slowly and with slight uncertainty walked towards the Kazekage and the waiting water bearer to the cheers of the crowd. She gripped the sleeves of her robe with both hands as she wracked her mind to come up with an answer to what she was supposed to do. She came up with nothing. In the entire week before the day of festival, Temari hadn't mentioned a thing she was supposed to do in this part of the New Year rite. She was under the eyes of almost every one of note in this village. A gaffe of formal etiquette now would be more than just a little embarrassing.

And then she was standing in front of the young Reto and looking up into his hopeful face. Up close, she could definitely testify that Yuka and Eri would have loved to spend some quality time in his company. The fact that he had none of the menacing air that most of the Sand warriors wore like a second skin probably helped too.

"Umm..." she started eloquently, hands wringing in nervousness. Did she need to make some sort of grand gesture? The rite up until now had been so formal and rife with symbolic acts. It couldn't end on such a simple note, could it? "Have… have a safe trip?" she made a pitiful attempt. And then, miraculously, an idea flashed by in her head. A half remembered world history textbook picture depicting a man from ancient Greece wearing a crown made of laurel branches as a distinction of importance. She reached into the tiny embroidered purse hanging from her scarlet waist sash with one hand, rifled around, and found a handful of seeds. Oren never let her leave the temple without some on her. In the few occasions she was allowed into town, there were always people in need of a little miracle to their day. Pulling the seeds from the purse, she counted them. Five seeds, all fruit trees. Apple, orange, and pomegranate with a side of peach and apricot. They weren't laurels, but she would just have to make do.

What came next had become so familiar that it might as well have been second nature to her. The seeds sprouted, grew, formed a laurel-like wreath made of curved brown branches and fresh blossoms of apple, orange, pomegranate, peach and apricot. It was a riot of color and fragrance and easily evoked sounds of awe from the watching crowd.

She offered the wreath to the water bearer who lowered his head reverently. She hesitated for a heartbeat, then crowned him with the wreath. He stood up straight and looked into the crowd with pride.

"Come back soon?" she offered, almost an afterthought. The desert was a treacherous place, filled with grand beauty and dangers. It was the least she could say to this young man.

The young warrior, Reto, looked back at her then, and she saw a look of wonder flash through his eyes before he suddenly grasped her by the hands, dipped his head low, and planted a kiss on the back of her hands.

Kagome squeaked in surprise. The crowd roared. The sounds of amused laughter and good natured teasing filled the air. Some old people were yelling at Reto not to move so quickly whilst others affected an air of indignation at the cheek.

As for Reto himself, after the surprise stunt, he released her immediately, stood up ramrod straight and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"I apologize for my impertinence, Miko-san!" His ears were red and his eyes were darting every which way except to look at her face. "I definitely will not disappoint you! I swear to bring this crown of yours to all the settlements of Sunagakure and let our brothers and sisters have a share of your blessing themselves."

With that, he turned and ran for the open gate before she could say a word. The sounds of cheering and laughter trailed after him as half of the crowd took off after the water bearer whilst the other half stayed behind. As he ran, the inlaid seals in the earth flared and one by one, panels hiding the desert channel flipped open and started a path for water to come rushing out of the overflowing trenches in the village.

Kagome stared after Reto in a daze until Temari grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Wasn't that just fun?" crowed the young girl as her brother muttered beside her. "Oh my god, even _he's_ infected! Everybody is infected! This is a disease! A plague! A scourge of the female kind! I will not let myself fall to it! I won't!"

"I… I suppose so," murmured Kagome half-heartedly in response. If this had happened barely two or three years ago, she was certain that she would have been a great deal more flustered… and very, very, flattered by the attentions of a handsome, young man. But she had changed. She wasn't that little girl of three years ago anymore. Now, after the initial surprise, she just felt awkward... and indifferent. He was quite nice on the eyes yes, but after Inuyasha and Kikyo, any interest in romance she had held had long since departed. Now, it just felt… slightly inappropriate. Turning to Temari, she attempted to change the direction of the conversation.

"What do we do now?"

"Now we celebrate," said the younger girl as all the gates into the village opened to admit a veritable flood of trader's caravans bearing with them untold numbers of wonderful goods and spectacular entertainments. The sounds of music; drums, horns, and soulful strings, joyful and jubilant, filled the air. People danced in the streets and toasted to each other's good fortune. Around them, the Maharra festival finally started in earnest.

* * *

**End Chapter 12 (It actually ends this time. I swear!) **

* * *

**1\. Next Chapter: Jiraiya Interlude: An International Puzzle. Hello, Sunagakure! Here Comes Ero-Sennin! **

"To quote one of our long range sensing specialists," said Jiraiya to his Suna informant. "For five full minutes, it's like somebody opened a door into the heart of the sun in the middle of Sunagakure itself." The man had actually said more on the subject. He had said that it was monstrous, that the momentary spike of Shukaku's rampaging session was simply dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of the supernova to follow, that he had never before in his life felt anything like it before, and if he had a choice, he would rather not ever again. This was coming from a veteran who had survived the Kyuubi incident more than a decade ago.

The most important thing he had said however was that whatever the alien source of energy was, it had had no problem devouring Shukaku's chakra signature within minutes of coming into existence. And it was that statement from the chief of Konoha's long range sensing squad that got the attention of not just the Hokage but all of Konoha's council. Wasn't that just fun? Rare was the occasion that Jiraiya got an urgent contact not only from his old sensei but nearly all the upper echelons of Konoha itself. Apparently they had been _tickled pink_ by the significance of that statement. They had even established a small task force dedicated to discreetly surveying the chakra pulses of Sunagakure itself, not an easy thing to do considering every Hidden Village was naturally a hub of chakra activities. They had then termed the incident 'Ground Zero Contact' and the alien power 'Suna Sungate' based on the testimonies of the long range sensing squad.

Overly dramatic names aside (Jiraiya had laughed until he snorted up all the sake he had been guzzling up until the moment he received that debriefing document via summon mail), this development had all the warning signals of becoming an international incident in the near future. Based simply on what they knew so far, there was a very real possibility that Suna had been experimenting with creating a super weapon several magnitudes more powerful than even a tailed beast. As if that wasn't already mind-blowing enough, there was the very real possibility that Suna had succeeded.

If it were true (Jiraiya wished from the bottom of his heart that it was not. Because if it were true, that would mean the old man would drag Jiraiya kicking and screaming through the village gate and nail his ass back to Konoha as one of its great generals to prepare for the upheavals to come. Jiraiya was very attached to his international philandering spymaster lifestyle, thank you very much, Suna A-Holes!), that would spell an end to the era of tenuous peace following the Third Ninja World War. The existence of a super weapon of that magnitude, coupled with Kumogakure's hoarding of war capitals and technologies, would undoubtedly catalyse an arms race among the great Five and various smaller shinobi nations.

Iwagakure probably already knew of the incident. The energy pulse caused by the Sungate appearance was too big to escape the notice of any surrounding shinobi nations with a dedicated long range sensing squad. Kumogakure and Kirigakure likely had not noticed due to the much further distance between their territories and Sunagakure. But this kind of juicy information usually didn't take long to travel to willing ears. Already, Jiraiya could see third party information brokers making a sales pitch to any and all shinobi nations and institutions with a stake in the current international power balance.

**2.** The feedback I got from the last (half/quarter/third?) chapter regarding Rasa is interesting to say the least. It seems reader's reaction to him runs the gamut from 'sympathizing with his views and wholly endorsing his plan of actions' to 'irritated and wishing that he'd just drop dead already'. There are even a few who straight up told me that they didn't know how to feel about him because their feelings vacillated between these two extremes. As a writer, I take this as a mark of pride. A badly written character would never have evoked such a wide variety of passionate responses. The fact that so many people hold vastly different views regarding Rasa means that I did my job in characterizing him as a warrior and leader of state.

Regardless of how you feel about Rasa, it is my personal belief as a writer that characters who are leaders of state should never be simple people. They must be multi-faceted characters simply because running a government/country is an incredibly complex thing to do.

**3\. **This chapter (all 3 parts of it) has the most amount of characterization for Kagome out of all the chapters till now (mainly out of her interactions and dynamics with Rasa). I've gotten quite a lot of feedback and questions regarding Kagome's characterization in last few recent chapters. A few readers asked me what happened to the non-violent Kagome core idea after the previous half/quarter/third chapter featuring an off-screen battle with the Kazekage. Yet a few more protested her lack of resistance and wanted Kagome to be more assertive of her place in the Naruto world. Some, after the last partial chapter, professed that they would like nothing more for Kagome to unleash her full power and nuke Kazekage right on the spot (I disagree respectfully. That is not who Kagome is. Is she capable of doing that? Yes. Will she do that? No. That is not who Kagome is).

Before this chapter concludes, I was hesitant in discussing the particulars of her characterization because I did not want to spoil the reveal of her background (the twist of last partial chapter is simply a preparation of the real revelation to come in 3-4 chapters. That one will be the real kicker. It is the core of From the Garden of Gods upon which I built the entire plot line and characterization of Kagome. Kazekage got most of the main points right regarding what happened to Kagome but the truth is a fair bit more complicated than that). Now that it has concluded and we have unveiled a little bit of her background, I feel like I can finally maybe talk a little bit about it.

My core characterization of Kagome as a character has not changed. She is still defined by her non-violent nature and her belief that might does not make right. That is not to say that she won't get mad or be provoked into a fight (as Rasa did in the last partial chapter). She is not all forgiving and as Rasa pointed out, much of her kindness and lack of resistance even when he assaulted her in chapter 4 was a result of her trauma. As to the direction of her characterization in the future, I've always felt… discontent.. with how Kagome is usually characterized in fanfics. There are two directions she can go. One is that she is this ultra in your face powerful demon/goddess/priestess entity and if you don't agree with her she is going to crush you where you stand with her awesome superpower (I'm looking at a lot of Inu/Naruto crossovers and a lot of Inu only fics). The second is that she is this wholesome, pure girl who is good and nice and can never do anything wrong (Purity sue ahoy!).

Needless to say, I never want to write a Kagome like that. The first one is just plain wrong as a character concept. That's not who Kagome is. That's plain wish fulfillment fantasy. In canon Inuyasha, even though Kagome contributes her fair share in battles, it is when she confronts the enemy (in this case Naraku) on a philosophical ground that you really see her shine as a character. Remember how Kikyo said that you couldn't kill a demon like Naraku with a sword? It's true. Naraku is the series' stand-in for the dark part of human nature, and that's something you can't kill with violence. It is only when Kagome questioned Naraku near the end of Inuyasha on philosophical grounds that we really see him falter. Her question was "What was your wish, Naraku?". It was Kagome who realized and pointed out that Naraku never got his wish despite having completed the Shikon no Tama and that he really was just another victim of the real villain, the Shikon itself. It highlights Kagome's true strength as a character. Whereas Inuyasha is someone who battles on a physical level. Kagome battles on a spiritual, philosophical and emotional level and that's something precious few other characters can do. Out of all the characters in Inuyasha, it is Kagome that Naraku fears the most because she attacks and invalidates him where it matters most. To characterize her around some metaphysical power is to miss the core of who she is. She is Kagome, not another Inuyasha, Sesshomaru, or Kouga.

The second type of Kagome is… boring… and stagnant.. and laughably shallow. Who wants an all perfect girl who is less human and more this ultra-pure being that couldn't possibly be able to exist? This Kagome is pure in the way that a child is pure. She is pure because she does not comprehend the world in all its complexity. You know the saying that you can kill people with thoughtless kindness? It's true. The world is a complex place with many complex problems and just because you want to help does not necessarily mean that you will actually help. Take for example: charity. You'd think people could do no wrong with something like charity, but in actuality, misguided charity does a great deal of harm. When you give people something without requesting anything in return, eventually, you teach them that they can exploit their misfortune, their poverty, their difficulty. You teach them that they don't need to try hard to escape from poverty because there will always be someone around to bail them out. Instead of teaching them to become better, stronger, you teach them to rely on the sympathy of others (which is a short term solution at best). That's what happened to a lot of charity programs targeting third world countries. Instead of giving people the opportunities and the skill to become better, many charity programs simply gave them free stuff and money on a platter and in the long term that only ends up screwing the countries of the third world even more. The second type of Kagome we usually see in badly characterized fic is the exact kind who will give out this thoughtless and misguided charity because she thinks that' the way to fix the problem (News flash: it doesn't).

When I conceptualize Kagome in From the Garden of Gods, I want to retain the core of who she is, her good heart, and also a part of her naivete. I think a lot of people never remember how young Kagome really is. She is 15 in most of Inuyasha and barely 18 at the end of the manga. She's barely an adult. You could say that she has a lot of experience from being exposed to the Sengoku Jidai but experience in one world/time line/culture does not necessarily transfer to a completely different world/time line/culture. She still has a lot of growing to do. And that's what I want to do in From the Garden of Gods. You see a lot of that in this 3 part chapter actually, especially in Kagome's interaction with Rasa. You see her naivete and simple thinking called out by him and when she gets drawn into his space (i.e. the physical battle), she is immediately put in place. In the last partial chapter, you see a lot of her childishness on display. Then at the first part of this partial chapter, you see her return to where she is strongest again. It is when Kagome gives in that she truly conquers. In reaching out to Kazekage Rasa when he least expects it, she affects him far more than any physical attacks she could have landed on him. That's the only time when you see the balance of power between them shift in her favor (and it will not be the last time).

That's what I want to do to Kagome as a character. I want her to grow as she should. She has a lot of issues that need to be addressed. She needs to be challenged and her ideals put to the test of harsh reality. Kagome's archetype is the spiritual leader. A truly formidable spiritual leader needs to be able to retain their ideals while understanding and working with the complexity of the world. To that end, Rasa is the character that serves as the growth challenge to Kagome. He embodies the complexity and harsh nature of reality in the Naruto world, all the things that Kagome needs to overcome in order to mature.

I have a lot of thoughts on the topic, but this note is getting rather long, so I'll just stop here. If you feel interested by the topic or want to know/learn/discuss more, you are welcome to start a convo with me either over PM or on my tumblr blog. As I always say, characterization is my kink.

Also, below is a note from one of my betas. Asty was so taken with the topic that she couldn't resist adding her two cents on it.

Beta's Note on Unthinking Charity:

I just wanted to add this because I think that it is part and parcel of the issue with the second type of Kagome, sorry for the soapboxing. Part of my thesis/"capstone" class was talking about the history of charity and how misguided charity has screwed up what is called the third world. They talked about the reason that the "gifts" given to poor people in African countries have only made them poorer. And how in India the efforts to bring clean water and education to people is so rife with corruption that the money only reaches around 2% of those that people are trying to help and not even all of the money that was supposed to reach that 2% reaches them. One of the main issues with it is that whoever is handing down the money or whatever from on high decides how the money is to be used. That is often not the way that the people in need, need the money to be used. Thus the people given these "gifts" are often considered ungrateful and those outsiders who only wish to help don't understand why their assistance isn't helping. Sometimes these people truly do wish to help but that's not how things work out. If the people receiving the assistance were listened to rather than simply being expected to be grateful I personally believe that things might be better. People don't need to be given things, they just need to be treated as people who just _might _possibly know what they need. The second type of Kagome is just like those people who decide what the "poor ignorant masses" _**need **_without even considering asking what they need in my mind.

Astarael Darkrah Black


	16. Jiraiya Interlude 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Betas: Michelle T., AstaraelDarkrahBlack

**Jiraiya Interlude: An International Puzzle. Hello, Sunagakure! **

* * *

The tavern of Takumi, a town separated from the border between the land of Wind and the land of Rivers by a mere two hours of ninja travel, was filled to the brim with patrons and chatter when Jiraiya walked through its double-panel and iron-trimmed rough hickory wood doors. At the jingling sound of the doorbell, the bartender looked up to find Jiraiya standing with packs on his back and road mud on his pants. He motioned for him to come sit at the bar.

"What ye be needing for the night, good sir?" said the bartender in a coarse rural accent as Jiraiya sat down on the rusty, old stool by the far left, in a spot that left his back facing the wall and gave him a good view of most of the room and the door. It was dinner time, and the tavern was filled with eating, drinking and talking people. In the rightmost corner of the room, there was a band on a raised platform playing, 'All I have in my soul is just rusted kunai' with a single guitarist, a drummer, and a vocalist. They were missing the bassist. Still, the music was good, the mood was up, and the conversations loud. Tonight, the patrons were either business travellers or new settlers, and all they would talk about was either a bright future or some lucrative deals waiting for them on the other side of the border. In the great desert of the Wind, business was booming... or so the rumors said.

A group of twelve sitting around the big round table in the center was discussing the new public announcement made by the key players and spokesperson of Wind a week ago. The government of Wind—said the statement—aided by the honorable ninja of the Village Hidden in the Sand, were to start a nation-wide construction project with the goal of establishing a system of highways spanning the entirety of the Wind nation. This system was to bridge the major trade lines between the nations of Fire, Wind, and Earth and served as the launching platform for a series of deep desert colonies. The news was covered by several reputable media stations as well as TV channels.

To a normal person—for example a school teacher or farmer—this news, while interesting, would not be considered of special importance. Other countries had announced construction projects of similar size and scope before, such as Lightning's expansion campaign into the various archipelagos surrounding its coast line, or Earth's Great Underground Tunnel construction project. However, to any merchants, traders, and entrepreneurs with half a brain between their ears, this seemingly innocuous announcement was nothing short of a starting signal for an epic gold rush.

The land of Wind was famous for its vast, desolate lands. Yet underneath this barren backdrop hid untold riches and opportunities. Rare minerals and metals, precious gems, fossil fuel and natural gases, and more. Wind was the largest nation on the continent—as large as Fire and Earth combined. Yet because of its harsh conditions and food scarcity, it possessed the lowest percentage of colonized area. Over ninety-five percent of Wind was unoccupied, and thus, industrially unproductive. Whereas many other countries had centuries to exploit and drain their natural resources, the massive reservoirs beneath the sand and stones of Wind remained virtually untouched—with the exception of the rims surrounding Sunagakure and its satellite towns of Ogi, Ainokura, Roran and Kaze. It was enough to make any mining magnate drool at the prospects.

And yet… that was not all. Wind was a large country surrounded on all sides by many smaller nations. This kind of change would hardly leave these smaller countries unaffected. The new logistical infrastructure project, beside shattering the barriers that hindered developmental progress inside of Wind, would also open up countless other opportunities.

For example, beyond the vast and desolate expanse of Wind was Yu no Kuni, the land of Steam—a destination previously reached only through months of long sojourn through Wind's treacherous coastal waters. The only other alternative was a collection of land routes through Kaze no Kuni deserts. Compared to the sea routes, these routes were not only much longer, but they were also under the monopoly of Sunagakure and thus carried a weighty toll fee.

Normally such a small and hard to reach country would not figure largely in the minds and maps of merchants and entrepreneurs, but because of its unique geography, buffered between the vast open sea and the desert expanse of Wind, the Land of Steam possessed a unique species of trees—Rahane Vaale Sangamaramar, a.k.a the Living Marble—whose tough and enduring timber made it the ideal material for building top grade sea faring vessels. Because of the difficult and long trade routes between Yu no Kuni and the rest of the continent, fresh Living Marble timber fetched an exorbitant price on the market. No river route traders would ever dream of building ships out of Living Marble, and even most marine traders would think twice before placing an order for a single ship built out of its famously resilient wood.

And yet, only ships built out of Living Marble could withstand journeys from the main continent, through the perilous seas, to the islands of Nagi, O'uzu, and Benisu—where rare materials found nowhere else in the world were in abundance.

"I'm telling you, we need to make a move on. It was so difficult, but luckily our group has obtained the rights to be first settlers in Kaze. We need to establish ourselves by the border and then set up shop and land trade routes with Yu no Kuni," the sharp voice of one among the group rose above the babble of the tavern. The man who made this statement gestured with the beer mug held in one hand. "We were lucky that my cousin could get us the permit ahead of time, but surely I don't need to tell you that we are not the only group looking beyond the border of Wind towards the forest of Yu no Kuni? Once the highways are open for traffic—which won't be long considering the efficiency of Suna nins, I tell you—there will be a stampede of traders and merchants through the land routes towards Yu no Kuni and its Living Marble woods. If we are not established by then, a small group like us will be done in by those bigger fishes with deeper pockets. We cannot let this chance go by dawdling."

"Yes, yes, we have heard plenty about your cousin, Takeo, and how we should make haste for Kaze," another member of the same group rebutted, her soft voice nearly swallowed by the noises in the tavern. "But we've been going as fast as we can. Any faster and we risk exhaustion. As a former citizen of Wind, you of all people should understand the harshness of the desert, shouldn't you? Certainly haste is of the essence, but if our group focuses too much on speed and lose our strength halfway in the desert, what then?" She put down her mug on the table with a clop, as if to make a point. "Sunagakure's desert rescue service is efficient… but expensive. Sunagakure Ninja services are expensive, period. Our group has twelve members, not including the camels. A rescue operation and then medical rehabilitation would drain almost every coin in our pockets. And where would we be then? Stranded in Wind without a penny to our name and no way of establishing the trading company we dreamt of?"

A few other members nodded their heads in agreement with the woman. "Anyhow, they have only just made the announcement last week. The actual desert highway system will take a while to come to fruition even if Sunagakure fields all of its Dotonjutsu specialists. As long as the highway system is not yet in place, we should still have time to establish ourselves. Haste certainly is good, but in this case, it is not of vital importance. You should think carefully, Takeo, before you plunge into action next time." At the end of her statement, the woman shot a look at the man who spoke previously. Her challenge was answered within seconds and just like that the group broke into argument.

They were not the only group in heated discussion. For the night, the tavern was filled to the brim with similar personalities. Yu no Kuni and its suddenly much more accessible timber trees wasn't the only big opportunity chased after by entrepreneurs with big dreams.

Turning his attention away from the tavern patrons, Jiraiya sent a jovial smile towards the bartender.

"One Ikeda, if you have it."

"Coming right up. Our last bottle of the day. Will have to restock tomorrow," replied the bartender as he withdrew a cylindric bottle from beneath the counter and deftly poured Jiraiya a glass.

"Good business?"

"Business ain't never been better!" said the bartender as he put the glass in front of Jiraiya, grinning broadly as he boasted. "Ever since that announcement from Suna came, these folks have been coming to my place nonstop. They looking to get rich 'cross the border. Ain't nobody heading for the border that don't have to come here to ma place for a rest."

Then he asked. "You looking to do the same, my good man? Have some business in the desert perhaps? Or maybe looking for something new and exciting?"

"Nothing exciting I'm afraid," replied Jiraiya in good humor. "I'm just… hmm… meeting up with an old friend is all."

Right on cue, the door to the tavern opened once more to admit another traveller. A woman this time, dressed in an immaculate turquoise kimono in the style currently popular in Kaze no Kuni, a wide-brimmed hat, and a scarf that covered her hair, head, and much of her face. Like Jiraiya, she made a brief scan of the room before her eyes fell on the under cover Konoha nin. They exchanged a smile before the woman turned to addressed the bartender.

"I requested a room in advance under the name Kotomi. Your best room in fact, for this… monsieur and I."

Her voice was soft and melodic, the diction crisp like that of a highborn woman. And as she drew near to wrap one hand around Jiraiya's arm, the scent of expensive perfume wafted gently from her body. With her other hand, she dropped a velvet pouch on the counter top. It made soft clinking sounds as it hit the old, hard wood.

"We're old acquaintances who haven't seen each other in… hmm… a long time… We have a lot to catch up with so, we are not to be disturbed," said the woman softly but clearly. This close, the bartender could see the vermillion mark on her forehead through the thin gossamer veil of her scarf. The mark denoted her status as a married woman, and what could a married woman of some rich noble Kaze no Kuni family be doing out here, in the back end of nowhere, with a strange man? Cogs turned in the bartender's head as his eyes perused the scene before him, the woman clinging to the man and the man with his hand wrapped tightly around her waist. The picture they made couldn't be anymore jarring; she was fine silk and polished pearls and he was ragged cottons and well-worn travelling shoes speckled with road mud. What could they be doing with each other indeed?

The woman must have already guessed what was in the bartender's head for in the next second she smiled sweetly at him, leaned over the counter and said under her breath.

"We would really appreciate your discretion in the matter," she reached out one hand—again, there was that sweet clinking sounds of metal coins rubbing rubbing against each other—then withdrew it. "And we would be pleased to show you our appreciation if you accommodate our needs... if you catch my drift, monsieur."

Indeed. Grinning widely now, the bartender stooped to get the key to the booked room from below the counter, dropped it in front of the intertwined couple and said jovially.

"Yes I do ma'am. Our establishment is dedicated to providing the best quality of service to our clients. You have nothing to worry about, I assure ye." And then to Jiraiya he gave a salacious wink. "Have a great night, ma good man!"

"I sure will, my good man," replied Jiraiya as he led the woman up the stairs to the guestroom.

* * *

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them and the silencing ward went up around the room, the woman immediately untangled herself from Jiraiya.

"Aww, what's the matter darling? I was hoping we could keep up the honeybunch act a little longer," said Jiraiya with a smile and wink, one hand over his heart as if wounded by her suddenly cool act. "I've been alone on the road for weeks. I crave the warmth of a woman. Surely you would not deprive the gallant Jiraiya of that, would you?"

"Even if I were tempted—which I'm not mind you," replied the woman, turning around to face him as she peeled off her scarf and haori. "You are rather… fragrant, Jiraiya-danna. Have you washed at all this week? 'Gallant' is not how I would describe you right now."

Sitting down on the chair and table set in the middle of the room, she withdrew six scrolls from the voluminous folds of her Irotomesode kimono, laid them out on the table, then beckoned Jiraiya with one pale, slender hand. "Now, because neither you nor I have much time to waste, let's get to business shall we? Much as I prefer a little entertainment here and there, I would rather leave this place as quickly as I can."

"Always so business-minded, you break my heart my dear… what is your name this time again? Oh yes, Kotomi. Classic old school name. I love it," said Jiraiya as he sat down on the other side of the table, his eyes going over the scrolls. "Now, what do you have for me?"

"That depends… on how deep the wallet of Konohagakure is…"

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Saito Yositatsu, firstborn son of a normal civilian family of Shiraru-Daichi—a satellite city to the capital of Kaze no Kuni. He was born a healthy baby boy weighing a nice 3.22 kg. Saito's parents were successful merchants with shops located in the Kaze capital itself. This financial stability meant that Saito received one of the best educations available to civilian-born children of any Elemental country. He performed well in school, was popular with his yearmates and often praised by his teachers as an impeccably well-mannered boy. His parents, understably, was quite proud of their perfect little boy and sole heir to the family business. For all intents and purposes, Saito Yositatsu seemed ordained for an easy life, that was… until he hit sixteen years old. An incident involving a classmate behind the school shed on Saito's sixteenth birthday led the boy to a startling revelation.

Saito didn't feel like a boy at all.

He managed to keep this revelation a secret for about three and a half month before his parents discovered him fooling around with the schoolmate in his mother's frock dress in an old stockroom. The event shocked the small middle-class family to the core. After the shock, Saito's parents—being staunch traditionalists and possessing grand dreams of marrying into a noble family through their progeny—issued their only son an ultimatum. Behave as he was born, or he was no son of theirs.

Two days later, Saito Yositatsu left his childhood home in the middle of the night, never to return again. From that day forth, he reinvented himself as Saigo no Tsubone, the daughter of a minor merchant family struggling with the possibility of bankruptcy. Under this new identity and for the first time in her life, Saigo was free to live as her heart desired. Because she left her parent's house with almost nothing, the newborn Saigo subsequently had to sell herself to a Kagema Geisha house catering to a particular type of 'niche clientele' in the neighboring Gokayama city. It was in this house that she was christened a Kagema Maiko. Because of her parent's exhaustive education and training in preparation for marrying their son off to a noble house, the young Saigo proved to be especially gifted in the art of conversations and entertaining men and women of lofty positions.

Because of the unique fluidity of her gender and sexuality, Saigo was able to traverse in the company of men and women alike and easily passed herself under the various personae she created. Before long, she climbed through the ranks from mere Maiko to Koshi, to Tenjin, and then finally to the highest rank of the Geisha world—the Tayu of the house. It was then that she started employing other skills imparted to her through her parent's education—networking, seducing, and extracting nuggets of information from mere rumors. A decade later, Saigo started to establish herself as one among the major truly neutral information brokers in Kaze no Kuni territory. Today, under various aliases, Saigo of Tsubone was considered one among the three most influential information brokers in the tri-territory of Fire, Wind and Earth. This famed personality in the world of ninja was now currently sitting in front of Jiraiya under the name Kotomi.

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Laying a hand on one of the scrolls, Jiraiya said jovially. "Don't be so distant, my dear. The Hidden Leaf has always been a good client to you, hasn't it? Do you have reasons to believe we will hold back the coin on good intel? Besides which…"

He spread open the first scroll, skimmed it. The information inside was on the planned projects under the Crown of Kaze no Kuni and the village of Hidden Sand. It confirmed what he already knew.

"... word is, that there has been a lot of interesting activities in the territory of our good neighbor, Sunagakure no Sato."

"Indeed, there has," concurred Saigo, waiting patiently as Jiraiya perused the content of the scrolls.

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Similar to the world of ninja, information traders had ranks and societies of their own. At the lowest rank were mere runners and droppers. The intermediate rank consisted of local informers who stayed fixed in cleanly organized territories and put their ears and eyes to good uses. And then, at the highest rank were information brokers such as Saigo, who had built themselves into the epicenters of intricately woven networks of contacts, informants and patrons. The information these brokers dealt with was truly massive in scope and volume, and ranged from mere court whispers to elaborate documents taken from militaristic institutions such as Hidden Villages.

Naturally, the existence of private informant groups and brokers like these was seen as a potential threat to Hidden Villages. But as much as they were potential threats, these brokers could also be great assets and allies to Villages and Nations close to their base. Intelligence work was notoriously expensive in both time and resources. In this day and age—where many Hidden Villages acted more as the substitute army and special service force of a nation—many minor villages did not have the resources to keep up a full size in-house intelligence division, which in turn made the assistance of information brokers and their personal networks invaluable. The five great Hidden Villages obviously had their own full-fledged intelligence division, but even to these giants of the ninja world, the assistance of third party brokers could still be very useful—even vital in cases that required them to stretch beyond their established territory. Outsourcing non-strategic intelligence work in outlier territories to private specialist groups had proved time and again to be the more economical choice. Besides which, major information brokers had political backers of their own. A Hidden Village might have the power to remove a broker from his or her seat of power but dealing with the fallout caused by these backers after the deed was done was the real troublesome part… especially when these backers could also be village patrons.

As a result of this unique combination of threats and assets, the relationship between major brokers and Hidden Villages such as Konoha or Suna was oftentimes quite complicated. To maintain a stable long-term business, the majority of informant groups had established codes of conduct or pacts of conditional cooperation with the villages whose territory they were based in. A much smaller minority of brokers, on the other hand, avoided conflicts of interest by maintaining a neutral stance towards all parties seeking their services. Obviously, this neutrality was only possible through the presence of very strong backers behind them as well as their base of operation being in areas where the territories of different villages overlapped.

Saigo no Tsubone belonged to this second group of brokers. With the support of several dannas at her back, the mistress of Gokayama Kagema Redlight neighborhood promised total neutrality as well as discretion on the identity of her clients. This was the key to her rise to prominence within only two decades and no 'family' behind her. Information coming from neutral informants always fetched a much higher price than those coming from groups rumored to be affiliated with one or several villages for the simple reason that it had a far lesser chance of being 'contaminated' by 'conflicts of interests'.

Saigo's specialty was any and all information that passed through the noble courts of Kaze no Kuni, Tani-Ichimai, and Gokayama; the bulk of this being microeconomic intel, market movements and impending governmental decrees of varying scopes and impacts. For the last seven years, Konohagakure had used her services as a way to maintain surveillance on the general state of affair of Sunagakure economy and financial strength as a village. They had their own intelligence of course but it was simply prudent to have an outside source as supplementing and verifying measures. If the Konohagakure intelligence team in charge of Suna was doing their job right, then the information in these scrolls should match up with their report.

As he predicted, about eighty percent of it was a match, with Saigo's report being a bit more detailed and localized than the Konoha-based team. The twenty percent that wasn't a match on the other hand…

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"Interesting," remarked Jiraiya as he read the content of the fifth scroll. "So they want to build not only a transnational highway system…"

"... but also a railway grid covering all of Kaze no Kuni itself and even branching into a few of the vassal countries," Saigo finished Jiraiya's sentence for him. There was a gleam on her face, gone in a second. Of course, such news was big for brokers like Saigo, and big news tended to translate to big sales.

"This is quite the ambitious plan. If it succeeds…" He let it hang there as he read, quietly going through numbers and scenarios in his mind.

"When it succeeds," Saigo continued in his place, substituting his conditional 'if' with her assured 'when'. "It will completely transform Kaze no Kuni."

"You sound confident that they will succeed. This is a grand plan, my dear. A pipe dream, some would say, for a village down on hard times like our friends in the desert."

It was very grand indeed. Railway technology had existed for a little more than a decade but few countries had been able to put it to practice on a national scale, and not for a lack of trying. The advantages of establishing a railroad grid covering one's entire country were immediately apparent. If a transnational highway system would eventually translate to a tremendous boost to a country's economy, then a railroad grid would completely remake that nation altogether. It had too many uses. It would be the backbone of a whole slew of new and old heavy industries. It would streamline the country and village's supply lines. It would bolster security by aiding in quick transporting of troops and assets. It would attract new, young labor by way of easy immigration channels. Everything that a country needed for growth and expansion, a national railroad grid provided.

And yet, despite the obvious benefits, there were but a handful of countries that had succeeded in realizing this vision, and only then, only small countries with grids of modest scales. The largest nation to have a fully realized railway system, Yuki no Kuni, was not even a tenth of any of the major nation's sizes and their population only a bit more than the population of Konohagakure, itself only a village of moderate size compared to other major cities in Hi no Kuni.

A full-fledged railway system simply cost too much, in both raw resources and manpower. And even when a complete system was successfully built, its owner would then have to regularly defend it from hazards, both natural and manmade. Fixed rail lines bearing cargo and riches made very tempting targets for robbers, bandits, highwaymen and every other shade of criminals out there. It didn't take a lot to stop a train. An earth jutsu. Not even an A rank. A B rank with a hefty dose of extra chakra behind it was all that was needed. Failing that, an explosive charge would also do. For a country like Sunagakure, which was magnitudes greater in size than Yuki no Kuni and so much closer to Iwagakure—where doton jutsu users grew on trees and there existed an entire clan of Explosion Release users—to attempt the same… it was sheer madness…

...Or was it?

"Oh I am very confident, Jiraiya-danna," said Saigo with a smile. "It is no pipe dream. They will do it. Even more, they will do it within just three years."

"You said this plan was proposed by Sunagakure to the Wind Daimyo, did you not? And this is to be a joint project between the crown of Kaze no Kuni and the Hidden Village?"

"I certainly did, danna."

"I see. The current Kazekage is an astute one, isn't he?"

"That he is."

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Jiraiya remembered the fellow. Rasa of the Magnet Release. They had met during the Third Ninja World War when Chiyo of Sunagakure started tinkering with the water upstream of Fire and Rain. He was but a jounin then, young and eager to prove himself; especially vicious too, since that time was right after the disappearance of the Third Kazekage, his elder brother. He had possessed a somewhat lean and mean look about him. Suna nins were typically built like that—wiry, built more for endurance than sheer power, built for outlasting opponents in the deep of the desert where every battle was as much against nature as it was against other humans. Tsunade would call it a swimmer's physique but there was no place for a swim in that dusty country. Climbing maybe, but no swimming there unless one fancied a dip in their infamous quicksand lakes.

"Watch out for poison," Tsunade had said in prep time before they made an assault on a strategic location within Suna territory. "You're so obviously built for power. A smart suna nin won't take you head-on but look to sap your strength over time before coming in for an easy kill. Poison is just perfect for that, and those Sandy boys can be terribly creative with theirs. Call it an art even. I really wouldn't want to see their art first hand," she speared him with a look. "Or secondhand."

They had clashed over several oases and chokepoints on strategic supply lines—and just as Tsunade warned him, there had been poison, a whole lot of it, and nasty uses of wind jutsu too. But there was no major fighting, at least not with the Rasa of Sunagakure, not until Kiri crashed the party and made what had been a fairly contained string of skirmishes into an epic free-for-all battle royale.

The magnet release of that clan had been a real pain to deal with for the weapon specialists, but a boon once war had passed and peace brought with it merchants and craftsmen in need of a little ninja magic. That bloodline was the sole reason why Kumo and Suna shared an oligopoly over the international metal and mining market.

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Yes, he could see it now. The numbers might be unthinkable for any other ninja nations, but Suna was one of the two ninja villages with an unusually large concentration of Magnet Release users. The majority of the bloodline bearers had nowhere near the power nor finesse of the current Kazekage or the one previous to him, but for industrial uses, they wouldn't need that level of power and finesse anyway. Yes, he could see it. They would need several teams of Magnet Release users dedicated to supplying the project. Three teams of ten, each one for one of the three major mining pits within Suna territory. If they used open-pit mining, they could even supplement Magnet Release users with run-of-the-mill Doton jutsu specialists. Their progress and production would be magnitudes more than what a purely civilian operation would be capable of.

Since the railway was made of metal, once the building was complete and operation started, dedicated Magnet Release teams could easily modify rail lines on the go with their control over metal, thus solving the security issues with fixed rail lines being easy targets. It was a lot of work, but Suna, until half a year ago, had been facing an alarmingly shrinking number of jobs for their working ninja population. Jiraiya had heard rumors of perfectly capable chuunin and even one or two jounin slipping into months of unemployment, sometimes even years. He had heard of some going homeless and forced to rely on state welfare to make ends meet and wasn't that a sad fate for warriors who had trained since birth to do their job for their nation?

The kind of enormous workload that came with a fully operating state-sponsored transnational railway system, while an unbearable burden for other villages, would be a boon to them right now. Two birds with one stone. Publicly, the Kazekage could claim to spearhead this project for the good of the nation and win some more good press for the village. In private, he would have won several thousand new and very well paid jobs over the span of years for his people.

So, now that questions regarding supplies, security and feasibility had been adequately answered, the one major issue left was…

"And the funding?" asked Jiraiya. "A project this big would easily cost billions. This is going to come straight out of Kaze no Kuni national coffer?"

"Indeed, it will. The daimyo himself signed on it."

"Just how the hell did the Kazekage make him do that?"

The Wind Daimyo, despite being the richest man of Kaze and owning pretty much all the oil rigs in Kaze no Kuni, was a notorious cheapskate. His penny pinching habit was so bad that he foolishly compromised the security of his nation by outsourcing vital tasks to the cheaper ninja of Konohagakure. No other Hidden Villages would suffer such an insult to their dedication and loyalty, but because of the low productivity of the land and the crown's chokehold of oil drilling, Sunagakure was especially dependent on its Daimyo for financial stability and so had to grit their teeth and suffer the slight in silence. For such a man, agreeing to fund a project like this would be painful on the same level as selling his firstborn. If the Kazekage had somehow persuaded such a man to give up that kind of money, then he was far more wily and determined than Jiraiya gave him credit for.

On the other side of the table, Saigo smiled, poured herself a cup from a chilled Sake bottle before leisurely sipping from it.

"Word is, the Daimyo himself hurried to attend this year Maharra in Sunagakure. They didn't send an invitation. He had to ask for it."

"Truly?"

"Oh yes, he was very meek about it too," replied Saigo. She was taking obvious pleasure from this sudden 180 in Kaze no Kuni politics that unfolded. It seemed the wind daimyo hadn't offended just his ninja with his scroogy ways. "Said he was looking to rekindle the fire of their friendship, deepen the ties between the people of Kaze and the shinobi of Suna, bring prosperity to both of their peoples. The usual lip work, as you well know."

"How things have changed," commented Jiraiya with not a little bit of derisive humor in his tone. As far as Jiraiya knew, the Wind Daimyo and the current Kazekage hadn't even talked face to face for the last five years. He didn't know a lot of people in the ninja world who genuinely liked the Wind daimyo. Sure Konoha was benefiting from his imprudent decisions, but one could not help but imagine oneself in the place of Suna nins. Bad rulers were generally not very well liked by ninja who tended to die in droves for nonsensical reasons while under their reign.

"Indeed they have," Saigo took another sip from her cup before continuing on. "After the ceremony of the first day, there was tough talk between the two. Apparently Sunagakure had been seeing great changes. They have become… shall we say… far less dependent on coins from the crown and far more committed to bolstering their village's power, and that made the crown very nervous as to where they stood with each other."

Jiraiya supposed they would. It was common sense to not bite the hand that fed one but when the aforementioned hand was no longer feeding, what then? Kaze no Kuni had its own standing army of course but that army had not seen a single conflict in the last 100 years. It was shinobi's blood that flowed in the last century and it was from that blood that bloomed the peace that Kaze no Kuni civilians enjoyed. Having an autonomous militaristic state inside one's own country was only wise so long as one could control that autonomous state with a sturdy financial leash. If that leash was no longer working…

"Their conversations must have been delightful," commented Jiraiya. Not that the crown of Kaze no Kuni didn't have it coming. They had been slighting their own warriors for years, making one stupid mistake after another, and leaving their ninja to deal with the messy aftermath.

"Delightful to hear, yes. But not so delightful to those doing the talking," said Saigo. "Word is, it was going nowhere for the first five days. The Daimyo was too nervous… and too used to the status quo to start on tackling their new dynamic. The Kazekage was too… set on creating radical changes to tolerate the usual capitalistic nonsense."

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After the Third Ninja World War, there were bets abound that the village Hidden in the Sand would soon either collapse into itself or crumble down and become a minor village, one of the many on this continent. Their streak of bad luck had held ever since the Second War. Their strength, assets and resources had been bleeding freely since the Second War and the unsuccessful project to resurrect their local ecosystem. But in the end, it was the Third War that put the nail to the coffin. They had lost their Third Kazekage, supposedly the strongest warrior they had ever produced. He didn't even make it to their main fighting. Rumor was that the man was kidnapped en route while heading to a tertiary outpost near the border. They never even found the corpse… if there was enough of it left to be found. Their military was devastated, their famed puppeteer corp reduced to a handful of shell-shocked survivors. One had even deserted, turned rogue in the middle of fighting, massacring his own team before taking off to who knew where. Something of the Red Sand. Sasu, Sosu-something. On top of that, they had emerged the loser from a World War and that meant enormous war reparations, crippling economic sanctions, and the cold shoulder from their own royal court. They had lost the majority of their political holdings and had to give up their share of international commissions from wealthy merchants and clients. There was no way they were going to be able to support their dead, their wounded, their veterans and the leftover families after the war with only the paltry income of domestic commission works. For all intents and purposes, Sunagakure looked to be counting its final days right after the end of the Third Ninja World War.

Konoha was poised to absorb the remains into themselves, poised to annex their unfortunate neighbor. It was either that or let Iwagakure take over the power vacuum uncontested. The Council was ready. Danzo was sharpening his fangs and readying his cohorts. And then…

… And then news of the Golden Fourth Kazekage arrived. Magnet Release used to extract gold from deep mines. It sounded ridiculous mainly because gold wasn't a ferromagnetic metal. By the law of physics, it should not have been possible to magnet pull gold from mines miles deep underground. It wasn't even a matter of chakra quantity or quality, simply a characteristic inherent to the metal and magnetism science. But apparently some ninjutsu genius had made a technical breakthrough and luckily for Sunagakure, that genius just so happened to be their brand new Kazekage.

"It's the younger brother," Jiraiya remembered Orochimaru informing him of the newly instated Kazekage. "Apparently that brat that once followed in his elder brother's shadow is actually quite the resourceful fellow himself. It looks like we won't have our own desert division after all. Danzo-san will be heartbroken." Well, Danzo might be heartbroken, but Jiraiya was pretty sure Sarutobi-sensei only felt relief. The extra territory and clients would be very nice, but he couldn't imagine Iwagakure would let Konoha come in uncontested. The region right after the Third War was already unstable enough, the land ravaged, the ground dyed red with the blood of their young, some of them not even out of academy. They really didn't need another war to follow in the wake of the Third.

The new income from the gold mines had successfully pulled the village from the brink of bankruptcy but the efforts of a single person, even when that person was a genius in his own right, only went so far. Sunagakure might have avoided dissolution, but the village still languished in the results of a bad economy and back-to-back recessions for years while their neighbor villages gradually regained their pre-war strength and status. A slow decay was preferable to a quick implosion, but not by much. Death was still death whether it came quick or slow. Jiraiya could well imagine that if anyone wanted radical changes in their village, it would be the current Kazekage.

The Kazekage and the Daimyo in the same room after years of passive aggressive mail correspondences. The latter nervous with this sudden change in the balance of power, but still sure enough in his status as daimyo to be offended. The former brimming with restrained resentment and the need to incite change for the good of his people. It must have been a fun show. Jiraiya wished he could be a fly on that wall.

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"Really now?" said Jiraiya, pouring himself a cup of chilled sake as Saigo told the story with relish. "And just how did 'going nowhere' arrive at 'ballsy national project that will change the rules of the game itself'?"

"Some say that Kazekage-dono lost patience," replied Saigo. "Or it was the Daimyo who lost the assurance that he still had perfect control over an army of assassins, merely two days travel from his own bedroom? Oh, who knows?" she sighed theatrically, raising her cup to her mouth. She had on the perfect courtesan's coquettish face. She relished in this kind of work and something as juicy as this gave her even more pleasure. "It is but a trifling detail. Anyways, the proposals for both the highway and railway systems came up on the sixth day…"

"Let me guess, the daimyo balked."

"He did," said Saigo with a self-satisfied smile. At that moment she looked very much like the cat that had gotten the canary. "For about ten seconds. Then Kazekage-dono brandished his brand new political chip. Daimyo-dono capitulated. He capitulated, hard."

"Ah," commented Jiraiya. "The Miko."

"The Miko," repeated Saigo.

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Now there was a word that had been following Jiraiya of late. It was not either a name nor an official title. From what he knew, the word came from… some sort of obscure old language among the hundred tribal languages that had died out centuries ago in the desert of Kaze no Kuni. It meant priestess, priest… or something along those lines. For the past half year, it had been making repeated appearances in Jiraiya's ledgers… as the eye of a proverbial storm of activities. The supply of food was a one-of-a-kind beast in Kaze no Kuni and had its own politics.

It had to be with the kind of dead land those people had to live with. Every ten years or so, somebody would come up with some new "miracle", like self-multiplying food, edible clay, or similar idiocy. Sometimes, people would be desperate enough to believe in it, or not. Once in a long while, the government would feel enough pressure from public to do something about it. The results of their attempts to "do something about it" varied. There were a few moderate successes like the underground channels that eased the water stress of the central region, but most tended to fizzle out and fade pretty quickly. So, when rumors of yet another "miracle" surfaced in Sunagakure, nobody sat up and took notes. Everyone had expected it to blow over soon, in a month or maybe two at the outside, three months top. Then, out of nowhere, Sunagakure had pulled out of all of their supply contracts with food merchants from Ta, Na, and An no Kuni.

Jiraiya hadn't even heard about it until months later. Apparently neither side had wanted the end of their business relationship advertised. Sunagakure for obvious reasons and the merchants because they didn't want anybody finding out that Suna had discovered the key to quick and extremely cheap food production even in the middle of a desert. It wasn't until the farmers in the big three food production nations—An, Ta, and Na no Kuni—started complaining about the unreasonable decrease in profits from their sales to go-between merchants, did the international market find out. After that, there were a lot of fluctuations. The market went completely haywire for about a month as town after town in Kaze no Kuni followed the example of Sunagakure and cut their contracts with food sellers, turning to their fellow countrymen for heavily subsidized fresh produce.

'Fresh from farms and as good as free' stated the advertisement leaflets from one of the many go-between courier businesses that had sprung up like mushrooms following a summer rain once news hit the rest of the world about the free food stuffs from Suna. Suna-based courier businesses became a big hit, for while admission to the civilian level farms were free for all, not everybody had the time or energy to go foraging every day for fresh lettuce and tomatoes. Jiraiya remembered his incredulity over that piece of news. Fresh from the farms? What farms?! Sunagakure was built on dead land. That was fact as the sun going up from the east every morning was fact. But apparently while Jiraiya wasn't looking, somebody had gone and changed that because the trade numbers coming out of the Kaze no Kuni ledger books couldn't be faked… at least not on such a massive scale.

That event was the starting point of an international stampede for information. Immediately, everyone with either political or economic interests on the continent started digging for the truth behind what, exactly, had happened. Whatever it was, it had originated from Sunagakure—a ninja village—and so it had to have something to do with the ninja arts, be it experimental ninjutsu or seal work. It was already a huge economic disruption so it got the notice of nearly all the big merchants and daimyo with sharp business acumen. And since it undoubtedly had something to do with ninja, it also got on the radar of the Hidden Villages. That was when the world had first heard of 'The Miko'.

Now here was the part in which things became confusing because nobody was quite sure what 'The Miko' was. Apparently the title used—which was so archaic that no-one but the uppermost echelons of Sunagakure even knew what it meant anymore—was a deliberate move meant to confuse and complicate matters.

Counter intelligence is thick, said the head of Konoha's Sunagakure surveillance team. It didn't take a genius to figure out that whatever this 'Miko' was, it was a boon to Suna… as well as a major tactical weak point. Hitting the supply lines before anything else had always been a tried and tested tactic in warfare, and this 'Miko' had become the single source of food production in Suna. In other words, a big bullseye with extra red flags for bonus points on it. If a war were to break out and if Suna were involved, Jiraiya bet his outstanding tabs at all the brothels in Hi no Kuni that everybody and their mothers would be gunning for 'the Miko' before the cry of war had even left the throat of the instigator. It was a good thing that now was a time of peace, or the absolute chaos in that first month of discovery would have been so much more troublesome.

Of course the leaders of Sunagakure knew that, and while everybody else was busy thinking this was just another run-of-the-mill, made-in-desperado sham of a miracle, they had taken great pains to prepare a veritable forest of false leads and misdirections. The usual approach when one possessed a critical technological edge over one's competitors was to hide every relevant detail. This time around, the leaders of Suna had gone the exact opposite and flooded every intelligence channel with information, most of it junk.

Around the two and a half month mark from the ground zero of that whole 'Miko' business, Jiraiya had dropped in on the Sunagakure surveillance team in Konoha's Intelligence headquarters, just to see how they were doing, and if anybody had made progress on data analysis. (Also, Mira-chan of the analysis team had a hot bod for a mother of two. She was cold as they came, but Jiraiya could be very persistent.) They hadn't. When he came in, the entire room, all eight-hundred square feet of it, was filled… no… flooded almost top to bottom with documents and paper reports on the Suna situation. And standing amidst this white, papery flood and screaming at the top of their voices at each other were no other than Suna surveillance team lead Ashikasa Yoshira and his sub Nene Ojite.

"The MAJORITY of Suna citizens believe the Miko to be a young woman with either a first generation Kekkei Genkei or Hiden. We have records from eye witnesses…" screamed Ashikasa.

"With all due respect, taichou, the majority of Suna citizens know SHIT about state secrets," shrieked Nene in reply. "A third of them still believe her to be the physical manifestation of a desert spirit for Great Sage's sake! And witness records can be falsified! Genjutsu! Mind manipulation! Hypnosis! Binding Seals! The guys from Interrogation and Sabotage did it all the FUCKING time!"

"It's a possibility!" argued Ashikasa while holding reams of paper, likely his own dissection of the 'Physical Spirit Theory'. "She was said to be a mute! And there were those reports from sensor agents of abnormal chakra activities around area she was said to have appeared in, in the trees she planted. She may be an entity similar to the summoned clans! Like… like a human shaped summon! The possibility is not zero."

"Bullshit! Ain't nothing like a human-shaped summon out there." Nene was going red in the face. She looked about a second away from taking Ashikasa's thesis from his hands and rendered it to shreds. "That goes against every known law of summon-human relations since the founding day of ninjutsu and you know it! That's just your nerdy tendency speaking! You just love the idea that there's an entire clan of summonable pretty girls out there! I know the kind of dirty magazines you keep in your locker Ashi_**baka**_! You think you can hide from me? Your best tracker?"

"Then how do you explain the no chakra pathway thing?!" Ashikasa threw back while pushing yet another document, this one with the Hyuuga crest on it, denoting it as the report of a Hyuuga scout. "She didn't register on Byakugan vision at all! Granted he was standing twenty miles out from the gate of Suna but everybody around her registered just fine. All humans have chakra pathways. Even the ones born with defective pathways still have something. But she has nothing. She does not register in the Byakugan vision-at-all! That's proof that she's something not human. She's supernatural!"

"The hell it does!" Nene parried back. "If anything, that proves my theory that the Miko is not actually a person at all but a puppet! A tool created by the leaders of Sunagakure to manipulate their own people!"

"Oh great sage, not this drivel again…"

"It's not drivel!" Nene protested. "I've got proof!"

"Baseless conjectures you mean?"

"They are not baseless! This is Sunagakure we are talking about. They invented puppetry! If anybody can make a puppet realistic enough to pass for a person, it would be a Sunagakure ninja. Just listen to me!

"I'm hearing nothing but nonsensical yak…"

"Shut up and listen to me! Those Suna folks, they've got more problems than just overpriced rice and potatoes. Their people are fucking nihilists. They lost two fucking World Wars one after another. Their Daimyo is a shit ruler. Their Kage is a cranky miser who fucked up his own son and wife for a loose cannon of a demon. They ain't got no jobs! Their veterans are out on the streets and on state support! Their unemployment rate is going up the roof and their morale down the gutters. A whole bunch of free potatoes ain't gonna solve their problems! They need hope! They need a figure to believe in! A hero! A saint! And their Kage ain't gonna be that person. He's too fucking bloodied already. And what's better at that than semi-divine figure who also appears like an innocent young pretty girl who is secretly a puppet?"

"You see conspiracies everywhere Nene! Not every governing body is that crafty. Majority of them are actually rather stupid and corrupted."

"That doesn't mean I'm not right!"

"Uhh… guys…" spoke up the coding specialist of the team, one Yoriie Tomoto. "I still think my theory that the Miko is actually an alien priestess from another world with alien priestess power getting lost in the time-space continuum and accidentally dropping at the gate of Sunagakure is the right track…"

"Shut up, Yoriie! This ain't one of your fanfictions!"

Sometimes, too much information was a problem. And that was before the Miko-worshipping cults sprang into existence, adding more misinformation and false evidence in the pile. After a while, there was talk of partnering up with other villages to attempt to cut through the intel blockade, which did make a sort of sense in Jiraiya's book. The surveillance team in Konoha was not the only party having problems with the shin-deep false rumor crap coming out of Suna. There were teams from other villages around the area as well—Iwa of course, and Kumo, even a team from Grass, and hired help from all the countries whose merchants Suna pissed off by severing business relations—and occasionally they ran into each other while sniffing the same false trails planted by Sunagakure's counter-intelligence division.

Make a temporary truce, pool your resources and share the fruits of success. Made perfect sense in Jiraiya's book. Except… apparently Sunagakure had thought about that as well, because around the time when the various teams from different countries were making contact with each other, they started rolling out… the baits.

Body doubles. An entire squad. For weeks, they played hide and seek, luring out overzealous agents made impatient with the lack of progress, then bagging them with traps laid out beforehand. In between such baits and traps, entire teams of Sand ANBU ran interference, causing scouting and infiltration teams from different nations to trip up on each other.

The upside of having a chunk of your workforce without jobs was that you didn't lack for bodies to throw at a problem. Sunagakure took perfect advantage of that. They threw every ninja out of duty they had at counter-intelligence and interference and ruthlessly exploited their home field advantage. Eventually, even the most stubborn teams started having second thoughts. This operation was taking up too many resources and manpower. Captured agents, if not killed outright, could become liabilities. Sunagakure was making this painfully costly for every party with their nose in its business this time around, and all for a purely economic trade secret. 'The Miko' had certainly become a critical keystone in Sunagakure's security, that much was true. But what was also true was the Hidden Village's largely militaristic natures. Their interest in scouting intelligence on the Sunagakure Miko was to acquire insurance in the case of future wars. They had no interest in kickstarting a war right now by poking too hard nor to spend more than the information was worth.

At one point, various nations started deeming the gain of this Miko business to be of lesser value than what they were paying. Their resources were better used elsewhere, especially when worrying activities were kicking up in other parts of the world; the revolution and brand new Mizukage in Kiri for example, or the political coup happening right then in Ta no Kuni—a strategically placed country with borders pressed against not only Hi no Kuni but also Tsuchi and Kaminari no Kuni. Gradually, the case of Sunagakure's miracle started losing heat and priority in the intelligence divisions of various countries…

… until a new development surfaced about a month ago.

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"Anything new on that one?" Jiraiya asked. He wasn't expecting anything out of Saigo. That case had gone cold for months and that was a lifetime in ninja espionage business. The Miko was now used as a political chip by the Kazekage. Of course, but only in that country could she—or it, if Nene was right—could be used in that way. When one's village became the new supplier of an entire nation, including much of the noble class, then one had weight to throw around, especially when combined with one's growing financial independence from the crown. It must be a tough place for the Daimyo right now, to see his control on his ninja army slipping. These transnational projects were probably the only way he could keep his control from evaporating completely. These were clearly in Sunagakure's favor but in the end, these projects—both the transnational highways and railroad system—would tie the village that much tighter to the crown.

But… that was just ties to the crown, not the Daimyo. Who knew? The way Kaze no Kuni politics was going, it wouldn't be unimaginable for there to be a new Daimyo in a year or two.

The din beneath them, in the tavern's diner where new settlers dined and drank and made merry, was dying down. Night had arrived and with it the exhaustion of the day. Jiraiya could hear heavy feet going up the stairs, down the corridors, then into rooms. He heard the sounds of doors closing. From beyond the window of their room, the moon was high and bright and drew a sickle on the skies. From its position, Jiraiya calculated the time to be well over midnight by now. Their talk was turning out longer than he thought it would be.

"We know her name now. Kagome, Higurashi. Pretty girl. Long black hair, pale skin, a little petite. Supposedly the single survivor of a deep desert dwelling clan. Official records say the clan was involved in developing experimental Hiden jutsu and it backfired… hard. The girl didn't survive unscathed. Whatever it was that killed her family had scrambled her brain so purportedly she's a little..." Saigo made a little motion at her temple. "... coo coo in the head. At least, that is what the official records Sunagakure relinquished to its royal court say."

Which meant it accounted for squat. Sunagakure trusted its court about as far as it trusted its own child Jinchuuriki. Not a lot… almost not at all.

"The name doesn't ring a bell," said Jiraiya."There's no Higurashi clan in Sunagakure. There's no Higurashi clan in Kaze no Kuni, as far as I know." Kaze had archaic rules when it came to family names. They followed the outdated system where only certain castes in society were allowed surnames: the royal family, the nobility, the warrior class—mainly Samurai and Onna-Bugeisha. Sunagakure ninja, despite their contribution to lasting peace in Kaze no Kuni in the last 100 years, was still regarded by the court as 'commoners' and so most of them lacked a surname. The Kazekage clan had once been granted the use of a surname in honor of their high office but declined to stand in solidarity with the majority of their people. But… the girl could have been an immigrant, perhaps first or second generation… or it could be a codename granted by the village if the records about the family developing experimental Hiden jutsu were true. There were plenty ninja clans out there who had gained their family name by way of their jutsu creations. Konoha's own Inuzuka and Aburame clans were fine examples.

"How is it written?"

Instead of answering, Saigo merely took up a pen and a piece of paper and proceeded to demonstrate. She wrote the girl's given name first. The script used was strange to say the least, archaic… but not quite. A warped version of incredibly old Kanji and Sogana. Who named this girl?

"Kagome, the basket weave, or… the bird cage. Hmm…"

"It can also be read as 'Lost'"

Then she wrote the family name. Again, it was the same warped script. Half archaic, half… alien.

"Higurashi. Sunset?" Combined together, the name read…

"The evening star?"

"Or the lost sunset."

That was a pretty name but somehow that felt like even more diversions. Suppressing a sigh, Jiraiya proceeded to commit this new piece of information to his head. It didn't feel like it would be useful, but it was still a possible lead.

"I guess that's that," he said, then stopped all of a sudden. Across the table, Saigo had gone quiet suddenly. A coquettish smile spread across her face. The smile sent tingles up Jiraiya's fingers.

No way…

"You found something," he stated with not a shred of doubt in his voice. "You found something big."

"I don't know about that, Jiraiya-danna." She was playing coy now as she withdrew yet another scroll from the voluminous folds of her elaborate kimono, this one slim and held shut with a seal, a rather fancy one too. "It may be nothing. You know how this trade is sometimes. Some information doesn't stand the test of time, so… if you don't use it quick… it may… expire. Who knows for sure?"

"How much does it cost?" Jiraiya beat to the bush. It might be nothing, but Saigo was a very good broker. Rare indeed was the time that her information was rendered worthless.

She mouthed a figure that sent Jiraiya's eyebrows flying into his hairline.

"You are asking for a lot." She wasn't asking for a just a year's worth of jounin pay. She was asking for a year's worth of pay for all the jounin in Konoha. "How do I know if the information is worth the price?"

"How about a sample?" said Saigo as she brandished a piece of paper.

"You came prepared," commented Jiraiya as he received the paper from her then read it. He grew quiet, his head heavy with thoughts. This was… Shock was not strong enough a descriptor to fully communicate across what Jiraiya was feeling now.

"So, what say you, Jiraiya-danna? Is it worth the asking price?"

It was. But there was no way the Council would clear him for that enormous an amount. And even if they would, all that bureaucratic red tapes meant it would take time. On the other hand, this information was pivotal, especially in light of the new situation that had risen but a month ago.

"You are a good broker," he hedged instead, laying the paper down on the worn wood table. He tried very hard to keep his hand from shaking. It would not do to reveal to an information broker the wonderful revelation Jiraiya had just had.

"Damn good," she corrected him. "But you don't have the funds for the full deal, do you? Or you would not be sweet talking me right now."

"Astute too," he responded with a congenial smile, unruffled by her rib. Saigo was good among the information brokers. She was straightforward and rarely tried to cheat her clients out of their hard-earned money, unlike some others he would rather not name. But that only made it that much harder to trick valuable intel out of her. Because she did not favor underhanded tactics, she presented no opening for Jiraiya to take, which meant there was only one other course of action open to him.

"How about an exchange of information?"

If you wanted information, you needed to give information. It was the most basic rule, not that many in the business actually remembered that.

"The possibility is… interesting," came Saigo's reply. "How do I know the information is worth the price?"

"How about a sample?" Jiraiya returned in kind. He flipped the paper he took from Saigo, took out his own pen, then wrote three words on it.

_**Sunagakure Super Weapon**_

Then he pushed the paper back to its owner. Saigo spared a glance at it, froze, doubled back again as if she didn't quite believe in her eyes the first time, froze again but a little softer this time, and then, very slowly, she turned back to Jiraiya who smiled at her impishly.

"What say you, Saigo no Tsubone? Is it worth the asking price?"

Silence, then…

"Maybe it is…"

.

.

.

This was not their first information exchange. In the past, such transactions had taken place before. Saigo prefered cash, but particular intel demanded alternative payments, which meant they knew the way to go about this by rote. She handed over the sealed scroll to him without a word. The key would be eagle-mailed to Jiraiya once the both of them left the premise. And on his part...

"The old man didn't let me take written documents out of the village," he explained. "So it will have to be words only for now. But I will send you the details via drop box, as usual. How about it?"

"That will do," said Saigo. With her approval, Jiraiya went directly to his part of the payment.

"It happened around a month ago. You should know what went down in Sunagakure around that time."

"Yet another tantrum thrown by their child Jinchuuriki? One that was pacified by the father… as usual."

"Well, thing is. It wasn't the Kazekage that did the pacifying this time around."

Saigo speared him with a look but said nothing. This was a weakness shared by many brokers. By nature, few brokers were warriors and even fewer were versed in ninja surveillance arts. Their methods of information gathering relied more or less on paperwork, written records, money trails, that sort of things. There were pros and cons to such methods and it was in this kind of situation that the cons showed. If Saigo had but looked into that situation with the eyes of a sensor, she would see that the entire thing being taken care of by the Kazekage as usual was nothing but a cover up.

"Yeah I know. Paper shows it to be the Kazekage as usual right? The people also backed that up. He's done that so many times already so nobody raised questions. But the entire thing happened during a sandstorm created by the Biju. Most of the people were keeping their heads down in their bunkers so it wasn't like they were keeping an eye on what was going on. So if the state wanted to, it could say the Daimyo went in and pacified the thing and nobody would have proofs otherwise… that is… if they weren't sensors."

"...I assume that your sensors… saw something then?"

"They sure did," replied Jiraiya. "That entire team is tasked with keeping surveillance on the entire area West of Hi no Kuni including Kaze no Kuni and all those tiny countries that buffered between Wind, Earth and Fire. Being what it is, Sunagakure naturally is a big dot on their keep an eye on list. Of course, usually it doesn't do much good. Too much noise. Too many chakra signatures running around. And there are those sensor blocks in their temples and their official buildings. And occasionally you have those weapon and ninjutsu testing sessions out in their wastelands and the noises coming from those scramble up our sensors like you wouldn't believe. But during that tantrum, as you put it, there were a couple signatures that stood out. We saw the Kazekage's signature alright… but there was something else beside him. Something… much bigger…"

"Bigger?" repeated Saigo, a contemplative look on her face. The current Kazekage was not known for an especially large chakra reserves, especially when compared to powerhouses such as Jinchuuriki or Kirigakure's own No-Tail Bijuu, but the man was no slouch either. He was a Kage, and the potency of his chakra more than backed up his office. There were few things that could outshine the light of a Kage level chakra reservoir.

"To quote one of our long-range sensing specialists," said Jiraiya to his Suna informant. "For five full minutes, it was like somebody opened a door into the heart of the sun in the middle of Sunagakure itself. That Kazekage? He was but a speck of dust beside whatever the hell this was. And it came completely out of nowhere. Seconds before there was nothing there. Nothing. And then suddenly, a sun rose." The man had actually said more on the subject. He had said that it was monstrous, that the momentary spike of Shukaku's rampaging session was simply dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of the supernova to follow—that he had never before in his life felt anything like it, and if he had a choice, he would rather not ever again. This was coming from a veteran who had survived the Kyuubi incident more than a decade ago.

"Oh?" commented Saigo, somehow infusing that one word with both surprise, confusion, and mild expectation. Even to a civilian like her, that sounded impressive but since Saigo herself had never felt that unmistakable electrifying thrum of chakra running through her body nor in the bodies of other people, her feelings regarding the importance of this statement was fuzzy at best. For a man who'd lived most of his life in flatland, the sheer majesty, the sheer pressure and menace of a volcano would be lost on such a person. This was the same. So, for her sake, Jiraiya went on.

"That's not the most important thing our long-range sensor said however…"

"What else did he say?" Saigo made a motion with her hand, as if she was itching to reach into her kimono, take out the tape recorder Jiraiya knew she brought everywhere with her, and hit 'record'. But she refrained from it. Doing that in the presence of a loyal client was seen as bad etiquette.

"He said… well… that entire team said that whatever this alien source of energy was, it had no problem devouring the Shukaku's chakra signature within minutes of coming into existence."

And it was that statement, from the chief of Konoha's long-range sensing squad, that got the attention of not just the Hokage but all of Konoha's council. Wasn't that just fun? Rare was the occasion that Jiraiya got an urgent contact not only from his old sensei but nearly all the upper echelons of Konoha itself. Apparently they had been _tickled pink_ by the significance of that statement. They had even established a small task force dedicated to discreetly surveying the chakra pulses of Sunagakure itself; not an easy thing to do considering every Hidden Village was naturally a hub of chakra activities. They had then termed the incident 'Ground Zero Contact' and the alien power 'Suna Sungate' based on the testimonies of the long-range sensing squad.

Overly dramatic names aside (Jiraiya had laughed until he snorted up all the sake he had been guzzling up until the moment he received that debriefing document via summon mail), this development had all the warning signals of becoming an international incident in the near future. Based simply on what they knew so far, there was a very real possibility that Suna had been experimenting with creating a super weapon several magnitudes more powerful than even a tailed beast. As if that wasn't already mind-blowing enough, there was the very real possibility that Suna had succeeded.

Across the table, Saigo had fallen into solemn silence. Jiraiya could see thoughts running through her head and her coming to the same conclusion the Konoha council made a month ago; could see that moment when cold logic slipped into shock at the ramifications.

A man-made super weapon capable of laying waste to a tailed beast, supposedly the most dangerous and most portent weapon in Ninja warfare. It sounded… overblown, but in this case, the possibility was very real. After all, the second biggest export category from Suna, right after freshly mined pure gold, were experimental ninjutsu techniques created by research teams under the current Kazekage, who was himself a pioneer in the field of Ninjutsu research and development. It would not be a stretch to go from experimental jutsu to experimental weaponries operating on the foundation of Ninja sciences.

If it were true (Jiraiya wished from the bottom of his heart that it was not. Because if it were true, that would mean the old man would drag Jiraiya kicking and screaming through the village gates and nail his ass back to Konoha as one of its great generals to prepare for the upheavals to come. Jiraiya was very attached to his international philandering spymaster lifestyle, thank you very much, Suna A-Holes!), that would spell an end to the era of tenuous peace following the Third Ninja World War. The existence of a super weapon of that magnitude, coupled with Kumogakure's hoarding of war capitals and technologies, would undoubtedly catalyse an arms race among the great Five and various smaller shinobi nations. And that would only be the beginning.

"How… troublesome," Saigo broke her silence at last.

"I see you see what I see," commented Jiraiya with dry humor. Nobody liked war except for power hungry psychopaths. War was bad for business. There certainly was profit to be made in wars, especially for people like Saigo, but long term, if one was looking at ten or twenty year plans, then it was just plain bad. It was too disruptive, too… chaotic. And this time around, it things were allowed to progress on their own, if news that Sunagakure might have succeeded in developing a superweapon of that magnitude, then the war to follow would be no mere petty skirmishes that could be contained in the territory of two or three unfortunate countries. No, it would be a World War. It would be the Fourth Ninja World War. And if Suna chose to field their brand new super weapon in this war, then it would be a World War like nothing they had ever seen before.

The possibilities were terrifying. And because of those possibilities, this could not be allowed to happen.

"I see," said Saigo, a cold, sharp glint in her eyes. "I see now why you called me all the way out here instead of waiting for our usual meeting. Is Konoha so spooked that it had to send its best spy to directly survey the situation?"

"Ah you know how those old guys are. They are all a bunch of scaredy cats but you know what they say. Always safe, never sorry."

"I see something more as well," she responded. "I see that you got more out of our exchange just now, even more than I thought you would." She pointed at the sealed scroll in Jiraiya's hand, accusation thick in her voice. "I have all but pinpointed your target for you. _**The Miko is the super weapon.**_"

In response to Saigo's accusation, Jiraiya merely smiled and shrugged. "You don't know that for sure, darling. Chakra can be terribly complicated. Just because two phenomenal things have similar chakra don't necessarily mean they are one and the same, or even related really."

He was lying through his teeth, of course.

Right after the discovery made by the long-range sensing squad, a list of priorities were immediately set up by the council, and at the very top of that list was the identification and possible extermination of the super weapon. Not an easy thing to do, considering the heavy security in Sunagakure right now, but if the opportunity were to present itself…

The miracle of the Miko, and right afterwards the Suna Sungate super weapon. It was impossible not to link the two together. Jiraiya had had his suspicions of course, and so did all the council members; but without solid proof that the two were connected, it would be foolish to jump to conclusion. Aside from the testimonies of their sensors ("monstrous", "inhuman", "worse than a rampaging Kyuubi"), there really weren't any other leads. For the last month, Jiraiya had been doing sweeps with all the brokers and third party informants within his contacts in the hopes of detecting something out of the ordinary. He hadn't really expected that he would be lucky enough to have definitive proof of the direct connection between the mistery of Sunagakure Miko and their super weapon landing right in his lap. Saigo's intel was worth a lot more than she thought, but it would not do for her to think she could raise the price of a done deal.

From her seat, the mistress of Gokayama Kagema houses frowned at Jiraiya. She could tell he wasn't being truthful, but she had no leverage with which to turn the situation around. After a full minute, she finally sighed, having given up the case as an adequate sale that could have gone a lot better.

"I suppose we are done for the day, Jiraiya-danna?" She said, her voice edged with displeasure. "You have what you came here for. I daresay that you have more than you came here for. I would rather not have to spend another minute in this... " she swept the room with a look, going from its worn wooden furniture to its tiny, bolted-up window. "... hovel."

They had spent hours in this room, their talk having gone much longer than both sides had anticipated. Jiraiya could see the signs of exhaustion in Saigo's face, in the tightness of her expression. But he was not yet done.

"Not yet, Saigo-san. Not quite," he made a show of stretching, his muscles popping from having sat in one place for far too long. "Believe me, I want to leave as much as you do. Out there somewhere there's a warm woman waiting for me to spend a proper night with her. But… there's still one more thing I need to buy from you, and this time around, I'm willing to pay whatever it takes."

"Oh?" she sent him an arched look. After what he had just pulled, there was now some wariness to her. "What else can you possibly want to know? Unless the great Konohagakure wants to buy court courtesan's idle chit chat, I really don't have any other big piece of information to sell you."

"It's not information we want to buy this time," he replied, grinning wildly. "It's your silence Saigo. We want your silence."

Saigo froze almost immediately, her expression going cold. She eyed Jiraiya and once it was clear that he wasn't joking, spoke icily.

"I am an information broker, danna. We are only ever silent when we are dead. So, pray tell, just what exactly are you trying to pull?"

"Oh relax, dear," he held up two hands in a surrendering gesture but he knew it wouldn't exactly put her at ease. Saigo was a civilian, born and bred, and though she had started learning a little self defense on the side ever since she entered this world, she was still sitting not even a meter away from one of the most dangerous killers of the ninja world. It would be a madman who could relax in her situation. "Hear me out. This whole thing right, I bet you're thinking this is really the hot juicy scoop and you are looking to make bucks out of it and you would be right. This thing here is the epic scoop. I can see Kumogakure or Kirigakure paying you with their firstborns for it. But here's the deal, my dear, I can't let you walk out that door without an assurance that you won't go spilling everything to every chap with the coin. The thing in this scroll," he held up the sealed scroll with a part of the Sunagakure R&amp;D team's report on their own Miko's alien energy—alien energy that bore an uncanny similarity to pure senchakra, "and the thing about that 'freaking big chakra gun' that Suna is building, you can't sell that information to anyone, especially if that anyone happens to be a ninja… ever again."

Nobody ever said ninja were nice people, least of all Jiraiya. He knew well the things they would do given half the excuse. He liked Saigo, so it was nothing personal. Given the chance, he liked to keep his people happy—up to and including third party informants whose loyalty to him was only assured by the amount of coin he was willing to spend on them—but this was for more than the sake of Konohagakure. For the peace of the Elemental Nations, this information could not be allowed to become public knowledge.

Iwagakure probably already knew of the incident. The energy pulse caused by the Sungate's appearance was too big to escape the notice of any surrounding shinobi nations with a dedicated long-range sensing squad, and Jiraiya knew for a fact that Kumogakure had one with their eyes peeled in the direction of Sunagakure 24/7. Kumogakure and Kirigakure likely had not noticed due to the much further distance between their territories and Sunagakure. Fortunately, the buffering countries with hidden villages of their own usually didn't have dedicated long-range sensing squad, their manpower already stretched too thin to cover their own territory and playing keep-up with their bigger brethrens. Unfortunately, this kind of juicy information usually didn't take long to travel to willing ears. Already, Jiraiya could see third party information brokers making a sales pitch to any and all shinobi nations and institutions with a stake in the current international power balance. Third party information brokers such as Saigo no Tsubone.

There was a beat of silence, then Saigo stood up so abruptly the chair beneath her was overturned by the force. Her face was pale, her expression thunderous. She had come to the same conclusion. Smart woman. Well, to be fair, one couldn't survive in this industry while being slow-witted.

"You tricked me," she said, voice thin and a little shrill. In her anger, her aristocratic accent slipped to reveal her mother tongue half-country half-city brogue. "You son of a bitch!" Jiraiya let that slide. People said things they didn't mean to when they were emotional. And he sort of had it coming anyhow. He knew he could appear really shady when he wanted to.

"Given a chance, I would rather not. But think, Saigo. If you go out and sell this, you know what's going to happen right?"

"What do I care if your kind find another excuse to spill each other's blood? It's not like you ever have problems looking for some. If it's not the will of some fat cat merchant then it's your overblown security concern. In the end, your business means somebody is going to die. It's not like my making money out of this is going to change anything. Killing is your deal after all. I only sing the song."

"It's going to be war, Saigo. It's going to be another World War, and this time around, I have a feeling it's not going to be hidden any more. Those civilians, the nobilities, even people like you, nobody will be spared."

"It's going to be war, regardless," she spat out in response, her hand whipping in sharp gestures. "Sunagakure is building a superweapon and sooner or later they are going to train its business end on somebody—likely you for all the deals you have been snatching from right under their noses. Don't try to fool me into thinking you need an excuse to go to war."

"Oh there's going to be a war alright." Once, Jiraiya would have preached the virtue of peace and the need to keep it safe and in place. Now, he was no longer so… idealistic. Not that he still didn't want peace. Peace was the other thing Jiraiya had a hard-on for right after beautiful women, but time and a lot of painful experience had taught him that one didn't avoid war by being idealistic and unprepared. "But not now, and it's not Sunagakure we are worried about."

He made a placating gesture as he kept on going, hoping his smooth talking would get her to see reasons, his reasons that was. "Their economy is still fragile. They have only just gotten out of trouble. Their feet are still wet and their war potential still depleted after two consecutive World War losses. Those are the kind of losses that can't be made up with just a year or two of economic upwind. It's still going to take them years to truly recover back to their golden age. They may or may not have succeeded in building a big chakra bazooka to shoot us in the face with, but they are not stupid enough to think themselves invincible with just that. War is expensive, and Sunagakure has too much to lose by committing to one. If there is to be a war, it won't be them who fire the opening salvo."

No, it wasn't going to be Sunagakure at all. It wasn't them Konoha was worried about. Rather, it was Kumogakure and Kirigakure that the Village Hidden in the Leaves was antsy over. Suna was still too weak and too cautious to commit to total war or escalate the situation until a war was unavoidable, but Kumogakure was another story entirely. Geographically isolated in its own peninsula, though Kumogakure was an active participant in previous World Wars, their strategic location meant that while the fires of war raged on, its devastating consequences never quite reached the homeland of the Village Hidden in the Clouds. As a result of this fortunate placement, not only did the current Kumogakure possess a strong military, it was also backed up by a robust economy that could easily make the transition into wartime production at the drop of a hat. Even more than that, the current mindset of Kumo ninja was national strength over everything else, and it was this mentality that had led to a decade of active hoarding of war assets and technologies. The Hyuuga incident was the perfect example of what Kumogakure was willing to do in order to secure yet more strength for itself. It was willing to risk escalated hostility with Konohagakure, at the time still the strongest of all the Hidden Villages, over the Byakugan and the tactical advantages that came with it. If the Raikage got wind of this Suna superweapon, heavens knew the lengths he would go to to acquire it for his nation.

Suna might not have reasons to go to war, but Kumo had all the reasons in the world, if only to keep the current power balance in place. And it was for this reason, that Konoha must keep an eye on their Easternmost neighbor.

Iwagakure had almost the same economy of Kumo, but military wise, they were still weakened after years of hostility with both Konoha and Suna. They would not risk a war now while they were unprepared. Besides which, the Third Tsuchikage, Onoki, was a cautious old man who was famed for never entering conflict if he didn't know for sure that he could come out of the brawl with an edge. Just as Sunagakure wouldn't make the first provocation, so too would Iwagakure refrain from escalating the situation further without clear gains on their side.

As for the last of the Big Five, the Village Hidden in the Mist might have neither a strong economy nor a stable military, but those Kiri guys were world famous for the crazy psychopathic shit they pulled on their own people. Who knew what was in those crazy motherfucker's heads these days, and what they would do if news of the Sunagakure super weapon was allowed to spread that far out. As the old saying went, best keep an eye on both the overly ambitious and the stark raving mad because those were the two mostly likely to pull the really outrageous stunts.

"Even if I silence myself," replied Saigo without needing any further explanation from Jiraiya. She knew her business and the business of her biggest clients. "There are other brokers. Information is like water. You can't hold it in your hands and hope to keep it forever. Eventually, all water goes to the sea, Jiraiya."

He noted the lack of the honorary 'danna' after his name, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he concurred to her statement. "There are other brokers," and then subverted it altogether. "But none who have all the pieces to the puzzles. And even if they somehow get the pieces, they won't have your reputation nor your credibility. Make no mistake, you are not the only broker Konoha is interested in buying silence from. Konoha itself is not the only one interested in buying broker's silences, period. Iwagakure also has stakes in this, and if my information is correct, they are pulling their own end too."

Now, he saw a waver in her face. It was there for a split second but he knew it had rooted itself in her thoughts. Now, he just needed to push a little more.

"How about I make this sweet for you, Saigo dear? I'm buying your silence after all, and this time around, I'm willing to pay a lot."

"Pay a lot?" she sneered, her barbs not yet retracted. "You didn't even have the funds to buy a scroll."

"Hey, I gotta save up for the big one right? If I spent all I have before going to town, what am I to do when I reach the marketplace?" He joked, then wrote a figure on a piece of paper.

"For your silence, Konoha is willing to pay this amount," Saigo scoffed, but Jiraiya was not yet done. "As well as give you implicit permission to extend your operations into the territory of Konohagakure and its vassal countries."

The latter half of his statement made the broker stop short in the midst of a grandiose rejection. She appeared to be thinking the offer over. It was an incredibly tempting offer, Jiraiya knew. Major Hidden Villages were notoriously protective over their own territory and rarely tolerated the activities of brokers not under their own influence. Even in the world of brokers, territories were jealously guarded and viciously fought over. To have the implicit permission from Konoha to operate on its turf was an offer whose value couldn't be measured by mere numbers.

She was wavering. Just one more push, thought Jiraiya before pulling on the ace he had specifically prepared for this meeting.

"Think it over, Saigo. Even if you can sell this information and make money, you can't possibly expect there to be no consequences. Sunagakure knows it's under intense surveillance. It's only basic protocol for it to also keep an eye on all the big players in the trade of information. It will want to know when its intel leaks and from whom the leak come from. Your name is there somewhere on its list. If you spill its biggest secret, do you think it will let you escape unscathed?"

Neutrality in the world of information brokers was both a badge of honor and a burden. Those few players who professed loyalty to none but themselves were usually watched by all villages near their territory, and Saigo was no exception. To maintain neutrality meant balancing oneself on a knife's edge and at any time, a slip could happen and the consequences of such slips tended to be fatal.

Jiraiya saw another waver. She was about to break, he knew. So he pushed again, one final time.

"Even if you run and hide, your parents still live in Kaze no Kuni, do they not? An old couple near retiring, their family business heirless, with nothing to look forward to except a gentle departure from life. I hear they still wait for that beloved son to come home, to say they're sorry before time's up. Regret is like poison you know? It kills over time, and in this case, it has had decades to work with."

There was a flash of pain and longing, an old wound revealed, still red and raw and only somewhat scabbed over. There was anger now in Saigo's face, but that was just to mask the very real concern underneath. This was a low blow, Jiraiya knew. But this was for the sake of Konohagakure.

"Or maybe a daughter would do too. Times have changed. When one's about to kick the bucket, it doesn't need to be a son, does it? I bet daughters are cool with old people now too."

And with that, he had her.

* * *

**End Jiraiya Interlude 1**

* * *

1\. Kagema: a type of special Geisha house that caters to men who prefer 'boys in drag'. It also means male Geisha.

The so-called 'male counterpart of Geisha' the Taikomochi/Hokan is something else completely. Taikomochi/Hokan are 'art people' who are male, appear male, act male. They are more similar to court jesters than courtesans.

A Kagema on the other hand are male performers who dress up and act as women and entertain men in the way a Geisha in the pleasure section would.

2\. The character Saigo is written as an homage of mine to the LGBTQA community, to the many great friends I have that belong in this community. She plays only a minor part in this story and is unlikely to appear again but if you look closely, there are hints in this chapter of Saigo's struggle with her family and her identity. The same kind of struggle I have seen many LGBTQA people go through. The conflict with the family, the conflict with themselves, the need to prove their worth.

My beta Michelle said she was surprised that Saigo was so affected by Jiraiya's low blow (mentioning her aged parents as potential targets of retribution for Suna). Of course Saigo is affected. Everything she has done in a way is to prove herself to her parents. Her lifestyle and her decision to climb to the top of the broker world is basically her, "Hey ma, pa. Even when I'm flawed in your eyes, look at all the things I achieved on my own. I didn't marry into nobility like you wanted, but I play them now. Look at me now, ma, pa!"

In her backstory, Saigo showed no sign that her decision to run away was a heavy decision for her. This is to reflect real life where a lot of LGBTQA decide to run away from home instead of confront their families head on. When you are 16 years old and hurting, it's easy to decide to just leave everything behind. But when you grow up, when you are older, when you see the world and see how cruel people can be, memories of home become fond again and there grows the desire to rekindle that bond, to mend the broken relationship, to make peace with each other. As the saying goes, you can take the girl from home, but you can't take home from the girl. On the side of Saigo's parents (through Jiraiya's statement about their regret), this is also to reflect real life where a lot of parents once they realize they have driven away their children, their loved ones, over something as silly and inconsequential as social norms, they realize over time what a big mistake they have made. The regret that comes from this kind of realization is often time crippling to those parents.

I hope I did Saigo and the people she represents justice.

3\. This interlude has two parts, this one and the part where Jiraiya goes to Suna, meets Kagome, hits on her in front of council members and the Kazekage, and generally wreaks havoc. He eventually ends up being booted from the Village Hidden in the Sand for his disrespectful shenanigans, but not before getting the information he needs. And thus the world of ninja is forever changed. The next part will be quite a bit more humorous than this part (which is rather exposition heavy).

4\. Hiden = Japanese secret traditions or secret techniques. This word is listed both in the data books and Narutopedia. Since it's very close to 'Hidden' in English and the meaning more or less correlates, it looks like a typo on first glance. Just thought I'd put it here since I got chewed on by one of my beta for not making that clear earlier. Ah, to have subpar grammar is to be human. I am only a mere human, beta-sama. Have mercy on me!

5\. Also, I posted several teasers for future chapters of From the Garden of Gods on my tumblr page. Read them at your own discretions. Jump to conclusions at your own perils. I am known for being a sadistic author. Just saying…

+trollish laughter+


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